


it's 3:15 in the morning...

by BuckyVaRog



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: - no mowhawk, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, CANON UNIVERSE - SLUTTY ORLANDO BLOOM, Double Anal Penetration, Drinking, M/M, Marijuana, Rimming, Spit As Lube, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrealistic Sex, Vaginal Sex, garbage pile of fire, i refuse to answer for my crimes, sorry orlando bloom i see ur spot and im blowing it up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyVaRog/pseuds/BuckyVaRog
Summary: "Wasn't this supposed to be fun?But somewhere along the way it got heavySince I saw you from across the lawn, light as the dayYou said I told you what you wanted to hearWell, you might be right but I meant every wordI whispered into your ear, besides I didn't mean to say"too long - arlie
Relationships: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	it's 3:15 in the morning...

**Author's Note:**

> quarantine has made everyone a bit crazy, right? right.
> 
> first and foremost i want to thank my beautiful and talented co-writer, bee. without them there wouldn't have been anything for me to plagiarize hehehe im kidding no im not<3 but seriously this is completely a joke a very elaborate joke but a joke nonetheless. it's all for shits and giggles, and none of it is meant to cause any harm obviously. this only exists because we're gay, horny, and ian mckellen called orlando bloom an "easy boy recliner" lmaooooo. totally not sorry.
> 
> if you want to follow me for more good for nothing content on twitter @ fagstache_
> 
> smooches

It all starts out by accident, really.

The crew is out on the town for the night, celebrating a week off from filming, and Orlando is drunk. This is not surprising, but what is, is how he drags Sean Bean into a dark corner and shoves his tongue down Bean's throat. Bean pulls away with some difficulty and tells Orlando he's taking him home.

Out on the sidewalk, Viggo helps keep Orlando on his feet. Then Bean is gripping Orlando’s hips from behind, Viggo gripping his biceps from the front.

Orlando makes a joke, not entirely serious but clear he isn’t as drunk as he's pretending, that ends with him on his hands and knees, Bean thrusting into him from behind and Viggo holding the sides of his head gently as his cock slides in and out of Orli’s throat.

The next time it happens, nearly a month later, Orlando rides Bean with Viggo’s mouth on his dick. He can barely see from his angle but he's pretty sure from the way Viggo’s hips move that he's inside Bean’s mouth. Orli moans loudly when he comes, shoving the hair off of Viggo’s forehead to see his eyes. Their gazes meet and then Viggo is moaning, hips stuttering above Bean’s face. He feels it more than hears it when Bean comes inside the condom that is just tip-deep. He is so focused on kissing that awestruck look off of Viggo’s face. Or maybe making it worse.

Nothing changes on set, except for Bean can’t seem to keep himself from stealing Orli away when at all possible to make out against a tree or trailer. He’s cocky and unabashed, and Orlando likes it. With Viggo it’s different. There were soft touches, gentle smiles, but Viggo was always an affectionate man.

So Orlando makes an effort to hang around him more, hang off of him, more like. It’s not hard when they film nearly all of their scenes together, even share a makeup trailer.

One night, after a particularly long shoot, Orlando stops the older man before he can leave. Viggo doesn’t say anything and they stare at each other for a long moment before Orli works up the courage to push him back into the makeup chair, dropping to his knees.

They haven’t done this without Bean and he hasn’t done anything with Bean without Viggo, but it feels like they need this right now.

Viggo tenses up at the first contact.

It's a hot, wet mouth over denim as long fingers undo the button of Viggo's jeans.

"Oh, fuck." His hand goes to Orli's head, nudging him off.

Orlando moans at the sight of Viggo's dick, already hard.

He takes it slowly, at first. Licking at the cockhead and underside. Viggo holds onto the base with one hand, the other combing through Orli's curls. 

Orlando practically purrs at the feeling and drops down as far as he can, lips brushing Viggo's fingers.

Viggo curses in a language Orli doesn't know, moving the hand on his dick to join the other in Orlando's hair. He pulls on it just the slightest, making the mouth around his cock open wider, moan rippling and vibrating around him.

Viggo's head tips back, despite how much he clearly wants to continue watching. Orli keeps his eyes up despite this; he wants to see him come undone.

Orlando continues to lick and suck Viggo's cock, spit sliding down under his chin as he feels him tense up inside of his mouth. He licks across the pronounced vein that runs up.

Viggo groans and exhales sharply as his cock twitches in anticipation, "Just like that." 

Orli moves his head as fast as he can, holding tightly onto the arm rests of the seat. Before he knows it, he's got a mouthful of salty come. He groans at the sensation, letting his body sag a little as he can taste it from the roof of his mouth to the back of his throat.

They're quiet and discreet and he's sure that if anyone had been around they would be none the wiser. 

Even when Viggo pulls him to his feet, remaining seated as he sucks the slighter man off, he does not moan and shout as he would in a bed. He breathes harshly and softly, cursing under his breath when Viggo uses his hand to completion.

They kiss, but not as long as Orlando would like. He pouts at the patient smile Viggo gives him after pulling back far sooner than expected.

After that Orlando doesn’t need the buffer of both Viggo and Sean; he takes them whenever possible. He never sees Sean and Viggo together unless there’s a fishing pole and bait involved.

\----

They’re done shooting for the day, and it’s just Beanie and Orlando in the makeup trailer. He’s reading a magazine, promptly ignoring the foot teasing up the inside of his thigh. And Orlando can’t have that. He’s climbing in Bean’s lap within seconds and Sean's hands are so  _ big  _ on his thighs and he's grinning up at him so sure of himself and he's been teasing Orlando all day and like… twink ‘bout to pounce situation except the twink has pounced. He's landed. He's kissing Bean stupid with their friends just outside the trailer and they can absolutely hear Orlando taking Bean’s dick as far up his ass as possible and none of them ever talk about it.

XXXX

Orlando’s drunk again; nobody is surprised. He’s been trying to catch Viggo’s attention all night to no avail. He’s going to have to do something drastic.

“‘Lij?” He slurs into his friend’s ear.

“Orli?” Elijah says back much more clearly.

"Dance with me?"

Elijah laughs like he hadn't been expecting the question. He nods, smiling brightly up at Orlando.

He leads the younger man by a sweaty hand to the middle of the dance floor of the very crowded club. It’s a treat that Viggo is even here tonight; pubs and small restaurants are more his scene. He looks so fucking good though in that dark shirt and darker jeans, hair pulled back into a bun at the back of his head.

If Elijah wasn’t being so distractingly pretty at the moment he would definitely be making sure Viggo was watching him.

“You’re so pretty, ‘Lij.” Orli sighs, arms wrapping around the man’s shoulders tightly. 

“You’re prettier.” Elijah says matter-of-factly. And that’s just absolutely absurd. Orlando has bags under his eyes, where Elijah’s skin is still porcelain smooth. 

He rubs his thumb there, because he’s too drunk to think better of it. 

“Wanna come back to my room?” Orlando isn’t sure he’s said it outloud at first, because his brain is a little slow and the music is so loud he can feel it in his chest. But Elijah’s face shifts from surprise and amusement slowly enough he catches it. 

“Really?”

Orli giggles a little. “Why not?”

“Just thought you had something with Sean, and Viggo…” He trails off, looking over Orli’s shoulder.

Orli hopes it’s to Viggo and he hopes Viggo is jealous. But then, fucking Elijah seems like fun.

He shrugs. “We just fuck.”

It goes beyond just fucking, Orli knows. They give each other comfort even outside of the bedroom. Bean, terrified of flying, has gripped Orli’s thigh or arm or hand in any such events knowing the younger man is there for him. He will make him feel better. Their friendship has gotten deeper, but it would never be more than  _ that _ .

Elijah makes a little noise, turning back to Orlando. They’re faces are close and his lips are so pink and his eyes are so big, almost unbearably blue. “Okay,” He says.

They’re outside in the chilly evening without even a good-bye to the rest of the group. If Orlando saw Viggo he wasn’t sure he could make himself leave with Elijah, if he was being honest with himself. But he rarely ever was, so instead he ignores all feelings deep in his chest and enjoys the one in his groin as Elijah gropes him in the back of the taxi. 

He kisses a wet line across Elijah’s throat, biting at his ear enough that the younger man laughs breathlessly.

By the time they finally stumble into Orli’s room he's sure the makeup team's going to throw a fit. Neither of them care.

Orlando pins Elijah against the wall by the door, both of them panting. They’re barely even kissing anymore, just trying to grip at each other fully. He gets a handful of Elijah’s ass that has the other man moaning loudly.

They take each other’s clothes off quickly and without much thought, crossing the room on unsteady feet to the bed.

Elijah shoves Orli down, crawling over him to straddle his waist. They’re both naked and flushed and extremely hard.

“I’m a bottom.” Elijah says suddenly, eyes wide and lips so red and swollen. 

“So am I,” Orlando giggles drunkenly. He rubs up and down the dark fur on Elijah’s legs. Probably the manliest thing about him.

Elijah laughs loudly, falling onto Orli’s chest with his face in his throat. “What shall we do, Elf?”

Orlando rubs up his thighs, up his ass and strokes at the supple skin there, then keeps going until he can dig his nails into Elijah’s back ever so slightly. “There are unlimited possibilities, Halfling.” 

Elijah grins at that, rolling his naked hips down until their members brush. Orli makes a noise that’s a cross between pleasure and impatience. It’s just not enough.

“Wait--” Orlando pulls Elijah down for a deep kiss before sliding out from under him to grab the lube in the bedside table.

“Okay,” He says as he wiggles back under where Elijah waits on hands and knees.

He sets the lube on the bed beside them both, sitting up to kiss Elijah again. It’s odd kissing someone so submissive. He’s used to being manhandled, taken care of or just taken. Instead there’s an ebb and barely any flow, but it’s still hot and wet and Orli is drunk after all. Maybe he could be a top one day just for Elijah.

When the kissing becomes too much and Elijah is raking his nails down Orli’s chest, he squirts a large dollop of lube into his hand. It’s watery and he has to concentrate very hard not to spill it everywhere before he’s even touched their dicks together.

Elijah thrusts downward, cock rubbing against Orli’s with too little friction.

“Fuck, come on,” Elijah laughs a little at the look of concentration on Orli’s face as he wraps his own hand around both of their velvety shafts as they slide with growing determination against one another.

They’re wet and sticky and there’s so much pre-come pooling on Orli’s stomach from the both of them combined he worries about the integrity of his perfectly unblemished skin.

Both of their stamina is outrageous and it's a long time before either of them get close. 

Orli feels it coming and makes a small noise, hand stuttering. Elijah's joins his, slippery and hot.

"God," Orlando lets his head tip back against the bed fully. He feels his orgasm coming, stops stroking and squeezes them together, then comes to the sound of Elijah's desperate moans.

Orli throws his arm to the side, letting Elijah jerk off over his limp body. He wants to feel bad but he just feels so good.

Elijah doesn't move for a solid minute after coming all over Orlando's stomach. When he does it's to flop uselessly on Orli's side.

He makes a contented sound, rubbing a finger over Orlando's pert nipple. 

"Too bad you don't top," Is the first thing either of them says.

Orlando laughs, eyes falling shut. "Maybe one day, just for you."

"Oh, Orli," Elijah sits up to lean over the man. His shadow blocks the light of the lamp and Orlando feels himself fall closer to sleep. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Elijah lays a fat, wet kiss on Orlando's mouth. 

He remains there until Orlando laughs too hard for them to keep touching.

"Get outta here," Orli jokes, shoving at Elijah's shoulder and opens his eyes. He needs a shower.

"Actually, I do have to go, but you know where to find me." He gives a ridiculous wink as he rolls out of bed and gets dressed. The door closes quietly behind him and Orli lays there for a moment. He needs a cigarette, and a shower.

There's a knock on his door, so what he decides he really needs is to get some clothes on.

He finds a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to throw on before answering.

_ Viggo _ .

"Hey," Orlando grins, knowing how he looks. And also probably smells. "Was just about to shower, wanna join?" He wriggles his eyebrows.

"You're insatiable." Viggo smiles softly. "I'm just here to drop off your jacket, you left it at the club."

“You’re the best.” Orlando kisses him soundly, humming happily. 

When they pull apart Viggo makes a face, lips twisting. “You taste like Mr. Elijah Wood.”

Orlando’s laughter echoes down the hallway.

XXXX

Orlando’s on his back, chest flushed and curls sweat-slicked to his forehead. Viggo’s gripping his thighs, moving in and out of him to get Bean’s dick deeper inside of himself from behind. He decides in that moment that he likes it best like this, when he can see who’s fucking him. Look in their eyes. Viggo always uses too much lube, always has since that first time, and his hands slip over his skin.

Orli moans. Viggo’s eyes flash, and he’s sure he would be getting his soul sucked out and up through his throat if it wasn’t for Beanie latched onto his shoulder. There will definitely be teeth marks. He moans again, at the thought, back arching as Viggo hits just the right spot.

“Right there,” He breathes with difficulty, throat closing around the never ending noises Viggo draws out of him. Reaching up to Viggo’s face, he pulls at his chin a bit.  _ Kiss me _ . He can’t say it, feels like something in him might break, but Viggo gets the message because he’s pulling away from Beanie with some difficulty to lean over Orli.

It’s not fast and hot and demanding like Viggo’s cock in his ass. He takes his time opening up Orli’s mouth, licking his way inside, sucking at the swollen lips. Orli’s heart is pounding and he moans deep into the kiss. Bean must hit Viggo’s prostate because he tears his mouth away to groan into Orli’s throat, hips stuttering. 

“Close,” Orli says it loud enough for them both to hear. His eyes are pinched closed because if he sees Beanie moving into Viggo and Viggo moving into him he’s going to come on the spot.

“Come on, kitten,” Beanie urges, that mumbling, deep voice sending Viggo over. Orli knows he would be filled to the brim if they weren’t wearing a condom. That thought and Viggo’s hot breath in his ear has him shooting come up to his chest. Beanie doesn’t stop moving, hands touching wherever they can reach on the men below him.

Orlando kisses Viggo’s shoulder, sucking over the tooth marks left by Bean.

“Fuck,” Bean grabs Orli’s curls, yanking him up for one last kiss before they’re all spent. He slips out of Viggo with a low curse, immediately throwing out the condom and going to the bathroom to clean up.

Orli nuzzles into Viggo’s hair, because the man has yet to move, has yet to even draw his cock out from his hole, and Orli finds he doesn’t really mind.

“We should get cleaned up,” He forces himself to say anyways. His arms come to wrap around Viggo’s shoulders tightly, contradicting himself. It takes them until Bean comes back out to the bedroom to extract themselves from each other, breathing into the air of their parted kisses.

XXXX

It’s a rarity that Karl Urban gets the chance to come out with the lot of them. When he does, though, everyone is expected to have a good time.

“Come on, Billy, just one more.” Billy’s barely holding onto Karl’s chest where he finds himself propped up against. Orli thinks he really shouldn’t, if he values his kidney at all, but also thinks it might be payback for all of the times the Hobbits have gotten him utterly toasted.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Billy slurs, holding himself steady by Karl’s biceps now. “I would think you were trying to get me all loose for ya.”

Karl chuckles darkly. “Who says I’m not?” He leans in so close Orli thinks he might kiss Billy, and that’s when he knows. Knows he absolutely has to have Karl’s dick.

He looks around for any sight of Bean or Viggo. He spots Viggo by the bar, nursing a whiskey, alone. That won’t do. Pushing through the crowd, he just barely catches himself from stumbling into Viggo’s back. Instead he carefully moulds himself there, chin hooking over his shoulder.

“I’ve got an idea,” His lips press meaningfully to Viggo’s ear, smile spreading.

“Is that so?” Viggo turns around in the barstool, Orli now pressed along his front.

He bites his lip a bit, smile even wider, and simply nods.

That’s how he ends up with not one, but two cocks up his ass. 

It had taken more prep work on Orli’s now stretched and weeping hole than it had to convince Karl to come back to Viggo’s room with them.

Viggo from behind keeps him upright, his grip on the older man's forearms like iron. His throat is raw from the last ten minutes of shouting without much of a break. 

Karl arches up into him when he can't move anymore, thighs quaking alarmingly. He's brutal, fingertips surely leaving bruises where they dig into hip bone. Orli's so small compared to the two men surrounding him, inside of him. He feels like he might just be swallowed up. By pleasure or lust or whatever he doesn't know but Jesus he's drowning.

"Nng," He tries to tell Viggo to touch him. He wants him to touch him so bad, just the thought might undo him. He slaps Viggo's arm a little, hoping he understands.

Somehow, he does, because his hand slides down through all of the sweat and lube and come between them to fondle at Orlando's balls first, then takes hold of his rock hard erection.

Orli moans wantonly, louder still than before. His head tips back onto Viggo's shoulder, nose digging hard into the other man's chin.

"You," Karl is murmuring from somewhere below him. "Are a fucking vision." He slaps the side of Orli's asscheek hard.

Orlando nods, because yeah he definitely knows, but also because he really can't say anything when Viggo's thumb flicks at his cockhead like that.

"Oh, fuck," Orli moans out exactly .3 seconds before coming perhaps harder than he has ever before in his life. He can't open his eyes, he can't even breathe, he just lets Viggo work his cock through it. 

With a groan he falls forward onto Karl's chest, letting them fuck him through their own orgasms. They move in opposites, never leaving Orli too full or too empty. He doesn't know how he's not hard again already but he's happy to pet at the hair on Karl's chest, murmuring encouragements to them both and cataloging the way both of their hands touch him.

Viggo's hands cup his shoulder blades, fingers flexing on every in-stroke; Karl's move from his thighs to his hips, nails raking angry lines unabashedly.

He doesn't know if he's ever been so marked up.

Fucking Karl Urban, he decides, is an  _ experience _ .

When they come it's nearly in perfect tangent and Orli moans at how absolutely filled to the brim he is. His cock twitches pathetically.

Viggo rolls out of him first, pulling off the condom and throwing it on the floor carelessly. He lays down next to Karl with his chest rising quickly and hair matted down with sweat. But, like, Orli thinks, in a sexy way.

Karl turns them over so Orli's back is to Viggo and he immediately feels kisses pressed to his shoulders. A hand, feather light, traces over his ribs.

Karl kisses him deeply, sighing roughly out of the nose, before rolling out of bed.

It always ends like this, with Viggo and Orlando the last remaining men in bed. He thinks, one of these days, Viggo is going to ask him to stay. 

There's never been a conversation about it, Orli just reads when it's his time to go.

Orli makes a lazy noise and turns to face Viggo so he can kiss him properly.

He stretches a leg over Viggo's naked hip, flexing his ass to feel how his hole still gapes.

"You could fuck me again."

Viggo laughs a little, eyes dropping closed half-way. "No, actually, I don't think I could." He gestures with his chin down to his limp dick.

Orlando sighs, mock put upon. "Now that's just a shame."

"Have I ever told you how fucking insatiable you are?" He growls the tiniest bit into a fierce kiss, rolling Orli onto his back.

"Hey, I'll see you guys on set," Karl says, and it sounds like he might be laughing or at least smiling. Orli finds it within himself to pull away from Viggo, breathlessly waving Karl off. Viggo's on his throat, kissing it thoroughly and only biting enough to feel, not to mark.

"See you," Orli squeaks, grappling at Viggo's back on a particularly harsh nip.

Karl is definitely laughing.

XXXX

When Orlando wakes up he is most definitely not alone and most definitely not in his own bed. He mumbles groggily at the arm that's got him trapped against a hard chest. He looks up from where he's caged in to nearly bump into Viggo's chin.

Hm. Interesting.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep but he's not surprised Viggo didn't wake him up. Viggo is nothing if not polite, and suddenly Orli feels like a nuisance.

He tries to extract himself from Viggo's arms without waking the man up but he is apparently not a heavy sleeper in the least because nearly immediately he's being faced with sleep-fogged blue eyes.

"Sorry," Orli pulls away enough so they can look at each other properly.

"Mm," Viggo closes his eyes for only a second before looking more clearly. "For what?" His hand makes a slow up-and-down pattern on Orli's back. It's soothing.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep?" Orli laughs nervously, resting both hands on Viggo's chest.

Viggo shrugs. "If I didn't want you here I would've kicked your scrawny ass out." He yawns, adding nail to his circles.

Orli snuffles a little, burrowing back into Viggo's heat. "Okay," He says simply, because he doesn't want to think about what's going on his chest right now. He's lulled back to sleep.

XXXX

The next time they have a couple days off, Viggo leaves for America to visit his son and ex-wife. Orli pretends he’s not going to miss him, and keeps busy by tricking Liv into going on a road trip with him. There’s a town not far from where they are currently shooting and it bodes to be at least mildly interesting.

He thinks she tags along because she feels bad for him. 

“Hey, pull over,” Orli takes his eyes off of the winding road stretching between boundless hills of green to see Liv looking out of her window and out onto a seemingly abandoned building. At least he sure hopes it is due to the state it’s in. He dutifully pulls onto the side of the road, mostly in the grass, and bounds out into the field as fast as Liv. She’s got a disposable camera, which he thinks is very Vig of her and says it because he knows she will roll her eyes.

She does, but she also laughs. Smiles at him in that sweet and simple way of hers. Like he’s supposed to know what she’s thinking even though he’s just a stupid fucking boy. 

As they get closer she snaps shots of the outside. It’s grey where it once was white, and vines take over most of the siding. The windows are all mostly intact except for those that must have met the demise of rowdy local teenagers. 

He follows her inside because he’s just as interested, truthfully, and there’s absolutely no way she’s outdoing him.

There are no doors resulting in rays of sunlight pouring in through the hole in the ceiling and upper floors. Viggo would love this. He does not say this out loud.

After Liv has taken a few pictures and wandered further than Orli dares, they go back to the car in silence. 

“It’s a good thing we didn’t bring the hobbits,” She murmurs, still looking out of her window as the hills roll by. “I’m afraid we wouldn’t have left that place standing.”

Orli agrees, shares a rather enthusiastic story that backs up her statement and enjoys Liv’s quiet laughter and bright smiles.

By the time the sun is beginning to set they’ve made it to the town and have little trouble finding a quaint pub to have dinner in.

Orli enjoys her company, and enjoys even more how she meets him tit for tat. He’s in the middle of animatedly telling her about the time the hobbits and Viggo dragged him from his bed at two in the morning to physically torture him in the hotel lobby when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

He pulls it out with a frown, knowing it couldn’t be his mother or Sam because they would have called. He flips it open and sees Viggo’s name across the screen. Unable to tamper down his smile, he apologizes to Liv before opening it.

_ the moonlight looks nice. lets have sex. _

A huff that turns into a delighted little laugh takes even himself by surprise. Viggo is absolutely fucking ridiculous. He has to hear his voice.

“Everything alright?” Liv raises a prim eyebrow, mischievous smirk belying her annoyance.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He pecks her cheek then retreats to the quiet evening life of Wakata. He dials Viggo’s number quickly and even quicker is the older man answering.

“It’s not even nighttime in New York.”

There’s a soft breath that might be a laugh on the other end. “Can you see the moon?”

Orli looks around until he does, despite being able to lie. It’s a crescent, he thinks, or maybe gibbous. Viggo would know. “Yes.”

“Then let’s have sex.”

Laughing brightly, he ignores the way he can feel Liv’s eyes through the bar’s large front window. “Is now really the time?”

“Why, are you busy?” Viggo sounds amused.

“Actually,” He looks back to see that Liv is indeed watching him. She mouths at him to hurry, eyebrows furrowing in mock-anger. “I’m on a road trip with Liv, we’re staying in Wakata for the night.”

Viggo hums. He’s disappointed. Honestly, so is Orlando. He’s never had phone sex before.

“Go have fun, kid.”

They’re quiet for a stretch of time, Orlando staring up at the moon again. “Don’t have too much fun without me, old man.”

He waits until Viggo chuckles, making his chest warm and stomach flutter, to hang up and go back inside.

“What’d Viggo want?” Liv asks innocently.

Orli’s jaw drops minutely. “How’d you know it was Viggo?”

“A girl always knows.” She shrugs and dips a fry in barbecue sauce. He finds it disgusting, but has refrained from complaining more than the thirteen times he already has. He does wrinkle his nose at her though.

“Nothing, really, he’s just, ya know...Viggo.” He shrugs, too, and smiles in a way he hopes isn’t dreamy.

She punches him in the arm lightly, but drops it.

Finding lodging is a little bit harder than expected and when they finally do, it’s a single bed room with a view of the lake they’re on. It’s not the worst, especially when, after raiding the hotel's mini-fridge, they both loosen up. 

Liv is by far the least pliant partner he's had, and she matches his speed without issue. She's young and beautiful and he thinks he really does love her. Not like, in love, but he definitely doesn't know the last time he's ever thought so fondly of someone.

Her interest in him is somewhat surprising at first because she could have literally  _ anyone  _ and despite his confidence he doesn't think he deserves her. In anything more than friendship, that is.

"Princess," He murmurs fondly into her ear, making her giggle. She pushes him backwards onto the bed, hips undulating smoothly.

So rarely does he top, but she was practically asking for it. Those soft eyes and supple lips; Orli doesn't know how they haven't done this sooner.

He grabs her breasts, tweaking her nipples just to hear the way she moans. Her long hair sways with her, moving into her face and Orli resists the urge to move it. He wants to see her face when she comes, and the way her clit pulses under his thumb says she's close, but doesn't want to disturb her motion.

The way she clenches around his hard length has him constantly on the edge but never quite able to go over.

When he feels her come,  _ hears  _ her, he's done for. He ignores the twinge in his back as he thrusts up a final time before coming.

He groans, eyes falling shut. "I love you."

Liv stiffens noticeably above him. 

"Not like," He amends. "In love. You're just...the best."

Liv laughs brightly, body softening and opening back up for him. "Oh Orli," She says simply. Her smile is small, almost secretive, and he feels like she knows something he doesn't.

XXXX

“ _ The best sluts with nuts in the business! _ ”

A queen is on stage twirling and lip syncing so well that Orli is temporarily distracted. It hadn’t been his idea to travel all the way to Auckland just for a drag show, but he realises how much he’s missed out on. They’re amazing.

The rowdy environment and two glasses of wine make the top of his head start to buzz and he leans heavily into Viggo in the seat next to him.

“If I put on a dress and wig and danced around I would just look like my mum.” Orli says, and feels the way Viggo finds that amusing.

“I would pay to see you in a dress, Orli.” Billy shouts over the table, gaining Dom’s agreement. The hobbits (minus Sean), Urban and John Rhys-Davies are sat around the table as well. 

“You would pay to see it slip off of me.” Orlando shoots back

“Ey,” Dom pouts. “We’ve never had to pay before.”

Orli sees the look start to form on John’s face. The wide eyes, pressed lips. He looks between Orli and the two hobbits slowly.

“What?” Orlando leans forward a bit, letting his eyelashes fan over his cheeks. “Surprised?” He would be surprised himself that the man was not aware of the crew’s goings on if it wasn’t so absolutely in John Rhys-Davies fashion.

John harrumphs, takes a long pull from the tip of his drink, and looks at him sharply. “You can do better than those two.”

“Well he’s done just about everyone.” Viggo unhelpfully chimes in. Orli gasps in mock betrayal.

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“If the shoe fits,” Urban supplies. Orli glares and they laugh.

John’s eyes somehow don’t fall out of his head.

XXXX

Sean is gone, has been for a while now, done filming until his scenes in The Two Towers come around, and Orli feels his absence heavily. He can tell Viggo does even more.

"We should do something," Orli mentions one day in their trailers.

Filming will be coming to an end soon.

"What do you have in mind?" Viggo's fiddling with his camera, but Orli knows he's listening.

"I dunno, go fishing or something?" He laughs at the way Viggo pauses.

"You don't know how to fish."

"No," Orli draws out. "But you and Beanie do, and you guys could teach me." He bats his eyelashes comically, earning himself a lazy smile.

"I'll call him."

XXXX

Orlando pouts. “I thought I was just coming along to be a little eye candy and afternoon entertainment.”

“You said you wanted to learn,” Viggo smirks, eyebrow raised in that way of his. He drops more fishing gear into Orli’s arms.

“Keep pouting, though,” Bean takes his chin in between his thumb and index finger. “Suits those pretty lips of yours.”

The kiss he lays on Orli is soft, but curls the toes in his shoes.

“Distract him and he’ll drop all of the equipment.” Viggo comments, dropping a fishing pole on the ground by their feet.

He pouts some more. “I’m not that easily distracted.”

The two men give each other a look, and laugh. Bean releases Orli’s chin with a grin and another soft kiss.

“Come on, kid.”

Orlando would complain more about his armful of fishing tools if Viggo and Beanie weren’t holding just as much, if not more.

“What the hell,” Orlando huffs, nearly tripping over a tree root he hadn’t seen on the path over the tackle box he holds high. “Do you need this much fucking stuff for?”

“Well, there’s the fishing poles and chairs,” Bean says. 

“The tackle boxes and bait,” Viggo supplies.

“And of course the snacks that I always forget to bring.” They share another look that Orli doesn’t fully comprehend.

“It’s not that much stuff,” Viggo reasons.

Orlando huffs again, following behind them for a while because they seem to know exactly where they’re going. He quickly becomes tired of walking.

“Are we there yet?” He whinges. Sean laughs, looking behind him to give Orli a smile.

God, he’s missed him. He hadn’t realised just how much until just now.

“Another ten minutes, little southern softie.”

“Northern bastard.” Orli mumbles, unable to completely keep down his own smile.

It takes exactly eleven minutes for them to get to a spot that’s apparently good enough for the two older men. Or by the way their eyes scan the skyline, like they’ve seen it a million times but are still amazed by it, this is exactly the place they were looking for.

Orli drops his armful of things unceremoniously on the ground, shoving his sunglasses back up his nose; he’s starting to sweat. Without the tackle box obstructing his view, he has to admit it is breathtaking.

The lake is a large and long stretch of water surrounded by green mountains and a clear blue sky.

“It’s beautiful.” He hears a click.

Viggo has his camera out and pointed at Orlando. “Sure is.”

Orli pops the collar of the baggy white polo he wears, wagging his tongue ridiculously. 

“What’s this place called again?” He puts his hands on his hips, watching as both older men start setting up the chairs and poles. 

“Watauga Lake,” Bean grunts when a worm wiggles out of his fingers.

“And what state are we in?”

“Tennessee,” Viggo grabs another one, ripping it in half and sharing with Bean.

They grow quiet and pensive after that, sitting far enough apart that when they cast out their string doesn’t cross. Orli foregoes the chair and plops down on the grass between them.

He doesn’t do well with the quiet, and when picking at grass becomes tedious he starts throwing rocks into the water.

“You’ll scare the fish,” Viggo nudges him with his foot, face stern. 

Orli sighs, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees, chin in hand.

Sean almost catches something a couple of times, but Viggo does actually reel in a few fish.

“Bluegill,” He says simply as he releases it back into the water.

When he keeps them, he explains with a mere, “Rainbow trout,”

Orli's enjoying the way the clouds roll on by and the way the ducklings across the way are following their mother, maybe even thinking a little bit about what tonight might be like in that big bed up in the cabin, when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder. It slides down his back, leaving goosebumps in its wake, to settle low.

“Just a little longer, promise.” Viggo sounds so relaxed and his voice is so deep, Orlando practically melts.

He makes a noncommittal sound, leaning back into his knee and letting his eyes fall closed.

When the sun gets lower than the trees Viggo and Sean start packing up. Orlando puts the snacks away, stealing the bag of strawberries for himself.

He regales only a single tackle box for himself this time, letting the old men take care of themselves. They don’t seem to mind, relaxed after an _entirely too long_ day of fishing. Grass stains mark the bottom of Orli’s jean shorts and he’s a little sweaty and half-dead from boredom but it had been beautiful. The view and the way Sean and Viggo so naturally set up things together. They work well on screen, off screen, in bed, wherever. It endears Orli to them even more.

“Mm,” He frowns around a bite of strawberry as juice runs down his chin and onto his front.

“That’s my shirt, you brat.” Sean doesn't look too upset by it, though. More like he wants to suck the juice right off of his chin. So, Orli smiles wickedly and uses the polo to wipe off the corners of his mouth.

“Not anymore,”

“I’ll get you for that later.” Sean warns.

“Sounds like a promise.” Orli grins again, tongue pushing at the back of his teeth. 

When they get back to the cabin, Sean and Viggo take over the scaling and skinning of the fish while Orli gets the fire in the wood burning cook stove going. It’s a modest thing, with two rooms, a kitchen and dining room with enough of a break in the space for there to be an actual living room. It’s a place Viggo says has been in his family for some time. He swears it is even more beautiful in winter. 

They murmur quietly to each other in the kitchen as Orlando settles on the couch with a book he finds on an old, dusty bookshelf. Some kind of ancient romance novel that’s surely sordid and dirty.

He finds himself drawn into it, though reading rarely is his thing. Sitting and being quiet, really not his thing.

It takes him a moment to register the fingers running through his hair. He tips his head back against the couch to look up at whoever it is. Viggo. Of course, Bean is sweet but never quite so _soft._ Orlando smiles softly, waiting for the man to speak.

“Dinner’s ready, Elf-boy.”

“Smells good,” He realises, head perking back up. Viggo’s hand drops to pull at an errant curl, then down to his shoulder, squeezing for a moment before letting go and retreating back to the kitchen.

The dining room is already set up, though Ori notes how dimly lit it is. There’s an overhead light that doesn’t work, so lanterns are hung up around the room. There’s also a fancy set of candles set on the table. It’s almost romantic, Orli thinks.

“How romantic,” Bean says loudly from behind, setting a bowl of mixed vegetables on the table.

“Viggo likes to take care of his boys.”

“You, my friend, may be a boy but I am a man.” Sean snarks, laughing fully when Orli sticks his tongue out.

“I still like to take care of you.” Viggo sets the plate of baked rainbow trout down. Before sitting down he gives Bean a thorough kiss. Orli stares wide-eyed, because really, _how_ has he survived without this.

“Dig in,” Viggo motions with his knife, eyebrows raised in encouragement.

Orlando doesn’t think he’s ever had fresh fish like this before and however it may have been previously prepared, it didn't hold a torch to this. He devours his own food, then starts picking at Viggo’s.

“Don’t test me,” Viggo grumbles, shoving Orli’s fork away for the third time now.

“Oh, I don’t know Vig, he might need to be taught a lesson.” Bean remarks, making an innocent face as he takes a bite of green bean.

Orli keeps it cool, though he already feels the need, the _want_ , starting to build in his gut. “Beanie’s right, Vig,” He leans forward a bit. “How will I learn to do better if you don’t teach me?”

Viggo looks like he considers this seriously for a moment, body completely still.

“I think I have something in mind.” He stands without preamble, making a slow beeline for the bedrooms. Orli and Bean share a look before standing quickly and following after.

Viggo’s already sitting on the foot of the bed unlacing his shoes when they find him. Sean sits beside him, also undoing his boots. Orli merely toes his trainers off, going for the button of his jeans.

“Ah,” Viggo startles him to a stop. “I didn’t say to undress.”

Orli grins, lifting his hands in surrender and walking slowly over to the two men. He stops in front of Sean, dark eyes looking to Viggo in askance.

Viggo motions with his head slightly to give permission and Orli seizes Bean’s face, kissing him soundly. He moans into it as Bean takes control, tongue probing deeply and with reverence. He reaches around to grope Orli’s ass, pushing their fronts together.

“Orli, sit on the bed.” Viggo’s hand runs up and down his back in smooth motions. It’s enough to distract him from Sean’s mouth and he pulls away with hooded eyes.

When he registers what the other man has said he complies, Bean manhandling him a bit. He flops between them, waiting for his next order. Because that’s what’s happening right now. Viggo has something in mind and all Orlando and Beanie can do is follow through. The two men stand before him and he waits in anticipation to see what will happen next. Sean is waiting for Viggo in a quiet way Orlando hasn’t seen before; they’re both utterly at Viggo’s mercy.

Only a moment later and they’re on each other, it’s soft but hard, slow but fast, and they undress each other for Orli in the same way. Orlando feels his breathing picking up, heart pounding, and has to squeeze his hardening cock in his jeans for even just a moment of relief. 

He watches the way Sean runs his fingers through Viggo’s hair to push it back, the way Viggo’s run down Sean’s back to bunch up the shirt he wears before a moment later he no longer does.

They pull apart, panting, and Viggo maps over the skin of Bean’s chest like he’s never seen it before.

Something flares up in Orlando that he can’t quite place. Like, that should be _him_ in Bean’s place, he wants those hands on _him_ like that. It unsettles his stomach and causes a crease to form between his brows so he steadfastly ignores it and pays closer attention to the way they remove each other’s pants.

Their cocks are hard already, Bean letting out a startled breath as Viggo brushes his knuckles against the red cockhead.

Orli tries to muffle his noises as he grips himself again, but fails miserably at the way Viggo’s eyes turn to him.

“No touching,” Viggo taps Orli’s cheek lightly, leading a finger down to press into his mouth. He gasps around it, eyes dilating further until they look completely black.

“Be a good boy, and put that mouth to use.” His voice rumbles deep in his chest making Orli moan. Viggo guides his cock to his lips, rubbing the tip against them until he opens wider, wide enough to take it all the way to the back of the throat if Viggo tested it.

He doesn’t, for now, only lets Orli set the rhythm.

He bobs his head slowly, latching onto the head like a lollipop. He flicks his tongue over the slit enough times that Viggo moans and pulls out completely.

“Beanie,” Viggo breathes, turning to the other man where he stands aside jacking off. He moves him to stand in front of Orlando, then guides Bean’s dick back into Orli’s mouth.

Bean isn’t nearly as patient as Viggo. He grips the back of Orli’s head, fingers twisting at his curls, and holds him still while he snaps his hips. He doesn’t go very deep at first, but when Orli can’t stop the spit or noises from falling out of his mouth Beanie loses rhythm.

He goes deep, holds still in Orli’s convulsing throat, then pulls back out completely.

After the third time Viggo pulls him back slightly. Orli’s panting, tears streaming down his cheeks and saliva running off of his chin.

“Undress,” Viggo peers down at him serenely, lips almost pulling up into a smile.

Orli does so readily and uses his shirt to wipe off his face. He smiles big at the way Sean leans into Viggo, arms wrapping around his waist, to watch Orlando’s pants come off. He’s naked, and hard, and has to rub down his thighs in order to stop himself from touching.

“Good boy,” Viggo pets his chin. “Move to the top of the bed, and _don’t touch._ ”

Viggo grips Sean’s hand to pull him flush against his chest. They move onto the bed together without breaking contact. Whether it’s their hands or mouths or dicks, they’re in complete contact until Viggo goes to lie down.

Bean stops him wordlessly, with only a hand on the other man’s chest, before laying down with his head in between Orli’s legs.

Orli wants to touch so badly, himself and Bean even if just to rub at his hair, but he follows orders and keeps his hands on the bed. His fingers flex against the sheets a bit when Viggo realises what Bean is asking from him.

Bean has never bottomed a single time in all that they’ve been together. He never wanted to and Viggo and Orli were happy to take it. But now, in this moment, he wants Viggo to fuck him.

Orlando mewls, hand running over his chest to play with his nipples. God, it’s gonna take so long to get him prepped, he’s probably so tight.

“Viggo’s gonna make it so good.” He folds himself up to get closer to Beanie, whispering in his ear. “He takes such good care of us.”

Orli peers up coyly where Viggo had left and returns with lube. Viggo looks down with such an intense eye he would feel self-conscious if he didn’t see the lust underneath it all.

“You don’t get to get fucked tonight, Orli, but you can watch.”

Orli bites his lip, nodding fast. He turns back to Beanie and runs a hand across his stomach. The muscles ripple as Viggo presses a lubed up finger between his legs.

Bean moans, legs falling apart to give better access. Orli moves to his stomach, head right next to the older man’s, and mumbles filthy things to him.

“Wait until you’re all stretched out, he fills you up so god.” He doesn’t expect the noise from Viggo, and looks up in surprise. Orli hadn’t been paying attention fully because every time he saw the way Viggo looked down at Sean it made that weird feeling come back. Now, he sees Viggo is three fingers and knuckles deep in Sean’s ass with both of their dicks red and pointing at each other.

Orli pets Sean’s hair and shoulder, laying soft kisses over his ear and shoulder. “So, so good, I’m so jealous.” He ignores how much those words ring true.

“Are you gonna be good for me, Beanie?”

“If you don’t fuck me I might just kill you.” Bean says, valiantly steady but his face and chest are red and his eyes can only stay open for seconds at a time.

He just grunts his way through Viggo breaching him. Orli wraps his arms around Bean’s neck and scoots up so his head can lay on Orli’s shoulder. 

Orlando’s toes curl against the headboard when Viggo moans. His hair falls forward into his face, lips parted so Orli can see how his tongue pushes hard against the roof of his mouth. His grip on Bean’s folded legs adjusts and suddenly they are over Viggo’s shoulders. 

It must leave his dick moving at just the right angle because Bean turns his head to keens loudly into Orli’s cheek.

He presses soft kisses wherever he can reach, lips pausing on Bean’s temple because Viggo’s moving faster now, his thighs and stomach flexing and it’s very distracting the way he just started looking at him. Their eyes lock and Orlando’s breathing picks us, rutting into the bed below him.

He had almost forgot how fucking hard he is.

“Sit up, touch yourself.” Viggo pants out, tongue pressing into his bottom lip. 

He uses Bean’s chest to push himself up and nearly smears his weeping cock into Sean’s hair. He giggles at the thought, lust drunk. Before getting fully situated, he extends his hand out to Viggo.

Viggo smirks, sweat and flush making him look devilish. Working his closed mouth a bit, he spits a glob of saliva into Orlando’s hand.

“You’re gross,” But Viggo’s smiling big, teeth showing and eyes crinkling. How he can be literally fucking someone underneath them and only have eyes for Orlando, he doesn’t fully comprehend it. 

He uses the spit to slick his hand down over his shaft. Spit is never a great solution but when he focuses on how hot and sticky he is and that it's because of Viggo, he nearly blows his load.

Viggo takes Bean’s dick in hand and after only a few strokes Sean’s gripping back at Orli’s arms, like a vice he squeezes him, come leaking heavily from his cock.

“Come on,” Sean urges Viggo to lean over him fully. Viggo does, arms boxing his chest as Sean’s legs cage his hips in close. “Keep going.”

It’s the first thing he’s said intelligibly since Viggo started fucking him and his voice is rough, and gravelly, and Orli strokes harder.

The new position makes it so Viggo can latch his mouth onto Orli’s chest. He can leave marks here, because they won’t have to be covered up later in makeup. Orlando's head tips backwards, moans falling freely as he practically rubs his cock bare. It would hurt if he wasn’t so close already. Or it hurts so much it’s actually good.

When Viggo bites his nipple, he comes. Hard and fast, shooting up at Viggo’s chest and chin.

Orlando gasps with some trouble, blinking back down to watch Viggo kiss Bean hard, hips stuttering where they finally still.

He doesn’t mean to but he feels like he’s drowning and his stomach does a flip and then he’s pulling Viggo off of Bean and licking into his mouth. He groans loudly and without abandon at the way Viggo immediately goes for the throat. Literally and figuratively. He’s never been kissed like this. 

When they pull apart they’re both gasping, and Sean’s looking up at them in adoration. 

“Not that this hasn’t been great,” Sean huffs, face still shining with sweat and some badly aimed come. “Can you get your cock out of my arse?”

Viggo makes a face, kind of smiling, kind of exasperated. He does pull out though, and then takes care of the condom and gets a rag to wipe them all down with. And he really does wipe them all down; he has to kiss Sean sweetly to stop his griping.

“I’m going to shower,” Sean says into Viggo’s mouth. “Feel free to join boys.”

“I would, but I’m afraid that tub is the size of a child’s sailboat.” 

Orlando thinks of how nice it would be to just stay in bed with Viggo, like always, like they always end up. It scares him how much his gut aches with it and to cover up his anxiety he bites his lip, eyes closing partly.

“I can fit,” Orli says confidently, rolling off of the bed and beating Sean to the bathroom. He hears Beanie sigh happily from the bed.

When he wakes in the morning Orlando is suffocating under Sean’s heavy arm. It’s gotten absurdly hot in the night and early morning already brings heavy humidity. He carefully peels away, cringing as their naked skin sticks together. 

Without getting dressed because it’s way too hot and what would he be preserving anyways. 

Viggo is sitting on the couch in nothing but a thin pair of boxers, chest sheen with sweat, reading a book. 

“Good morning,” Orli walks around the back of the couch to slink his way into Viggo’s lap.

Viggo makes a grumbling noise as he sets his book aside, but looks pleased. “Morning,” He gropes at Orlando’s ass a bit before letting his hands drift down his thighs.

Their cocks wake up at nearly the same time, Orlando already half hard. “Do you have condoms out here?” He manages to ask even as he rutts down slowly against Viggo.

“Obviously." He kisses Orlando soundly before dumping him on the couch and getting up to take off his boxers (maybe Beanie's boxers) and retrieve condoms from his pack by the door. He also has lube, which Orlando wasn’t actually very worried about. He craves Viggo, in a way he doesn’t understand.

Viggo’s sitting back down, moving Orli’s legs and manhandling him back into his lap. The younger man doesn’t need much coaxing and is firmly seated by the time Viggo’s fingers are slicked up.

Viggo goes slow. It’s almost lazy, if Orlando didn’t know better; Viggo is never lazy. He takes his time and measures everything out and sometimes it could be infuriating but he was never, ever lazy.

Orlando lets his hips jerk slightly whenever Viggo presses into his prostate, but otherwise they don’t move away from where they’re pressed together tightly. 

Viggo’s left hand rubs tiny circles on his lower back, right over the raised scar there, as he presses in a third finger that has Orlando mewling into their kiss. His arms wrap closer around Viggo’s neck, both hands burying into his mussed up hair.

They have to pull their mouths away because Orli starts to get light headed from the lack of oxygen. He closes his eyes, foreheads leaning together, and catches his breath.

“Are you ready, love?” 

Orli’s chest pangs. He nods, because he doesn’t trust his voice.

He feels Viggo roll on the condom, feels the top of his cock rubbing over his hole, and moans when it pushes past the first rings of muscle. It’s always a bit of a shock, no matter how many times; it always sends a bolt of lust through his system.

He pushes all the way down in that same languid pace, loving the way it punches the breath out of Viggo. He opens his eyes and leans back enough so he can watch, only to find Viggo already watching him.

“You’re beautiful,” Viggo murmurs against his mouth.

Orlando, to ignore his pounding heart, kisses him hard. It changes the way Viggo’s hips cant up into him and he grips the back of the couch to keep from being flung off. They both breathe too harshly to keep kissing, merely panting open-mouthed into each other.

“Touch me,” Orlando’s hips falter when Viggo’s hand immediately wraps around his cock. It’s a slow build, for they’ve been moving together for so long at this point the sun is beginning to properly rise. He closes his eyes to keep from being blinded, or overwhelmed, or both. 

“Close,” Viggo breathes into his neck. He can only nod jerkily in response.

Viggo keeps him on the edge long enough that when he comes he also feels Viggo’s cock pulse and soften in his ass.

They peel apart after a long while if only to get some fresh air on their tacky skin.

"We should shower." Orlando sighs from the other side of the couch.

"Not enough room for the both of us,"

"Me and Beanie fit," He nudges Viggo's thigh with his foot with a suggestive smile.

Viggo stares for a moment. Not really stares, because his eyes are soft and his mouth is upturned, but looks.

"If it breaks, you're paying to have it fixed."

Orli laughs loudly, knowing they might wake Bean. He wouldn't oppose to it.

Bean does, though, sleep like a rock and does not wake up until long after the two men have showered and prepared breakfast.

"Smells good,"

Orli hears the grumbled words and looks up to see Bean yawn, stretch, and then walk fully into the living room to pick off of Viggo's plate.

"Really?" Viggo raises an eyebrow, getting up to move on the other side of Orli. He has to refrain from stealing his share of grapes from Viggo's plate in order to keep him close.

"There's more in the kitchen," Viggo looks pointedly at Orlando as well. He rolls his eyes but gets up for his own plate as well as one for Beanie.

"That at least earns me 'thank you' blowjob." Orlando smirks at the look Bean sends him.

"Brat,"

They decide to swim down by the lake in a designated section due to the heat. Sean and Orlando complain about it the entire way down to the man-made beach. 

Viggo rubs them both down in sunscreen, then lets Orli rub him down, before they splash in. Well, Orlando splashes, the older men wade in carefully. It's still cold, even though it's August.

Orli dunks himself to get over the shock then floats on his back. He closes his eyes against the sun, but enjoys the way it contrasts the chill of the lake.

He takes a deep breath, stomach inflating, and yelps when someone slaps it.

He loses his stability and slips under, spluttering as it gets in his nose.

"What the fuck?" He yells, eyes closed against his now sopping curls.

"Was the perfect target," Viggo's calm voice is closer than he expects. He blindly reaches out and slaps skin, then grips and grapples until he can get on his back.

He moves his hair away to see properly. Viggo grips under his knees, then tips back so they're both submerged. Orli yells underwater and squeezes wherever on Viggo he can reach.

The other man keeps a tight hold on him though, and he can’t escape. He changes tact and bites at Viggo's throat. He’s released and resurfaces with a gasp.

“I thought for sure he had killed you,” Sean wades nearby, hair now wet and slicked back. He looks especially attractive all wet, but Orli only has a moment to appreciate before Viggo is coming back up and splashing him hard in the face.

Orlando dips back under and swims low enough to sweep Viggo’s legs out from under him. Their back and forth lasts for a while until Viggo gets water up his nose and Orlando declares the war won. He climbs onto Sean’s back and appreciates the way he can hold them both up when he swims laps. 

“You’re so strong,” Orlando purrs into Beanie’s ear, sucking at the lobe. Deep, rumbling laughter is his response.

“You’re a twig,”

“Whatever you say, babes,” Orli teases, even knowing full well that he is in fact quite small in comparison to Bean.

Once Bean gets tired of lugging him around he goes back to the sandy shore and lays out on a towel. Orli calls him a party-pooper but is floating on his back as quickly as he’s done appreciating the way Sean’s skin glistens in the sun.

Soon enough there are families coming down to enjoy a break from the blistering heat and Orlando has to dodge a mass of children hurtling into the shallow end. He sees Viggo has joined Bean and figures he might as well, also.

They’re talking quietly, Viggo looking understanding and Sean looking upset. The latter notices him first.

“I’m afraid we have to cut this short.” He looks regretful, but ultimately anxious.

“Is everything okay?” Orli wraps a towel around his shoulders and sits in the sand, disregarding the way it sticks everywhere. He can rinse off before they leave.

“I’m afraid not,” He clears his throat gruffly when Orli nudges him to continue. “It’s my daughter, my youngest, I guess she’s really sick. I have to fly back to London to be with her, and my ex.”

“We understand completely, Sean, please, your daughter comes first.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, we’ll see you soon.” Orlando wants to kiss him, ease his worry, but is conscious of the evening crowd that’s beginning to gather.

“I just hope she’s alright,” He tries to smile, falters and huffs a great sigh.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, let’s just get back.”

Bean doesn’t even bother with a shower when they get back to the cabin, simply grabs his bags and a quick snack and is back in the Jeep as fast as Viggo and Orli can finish a shared cigarette.

They each hug him long and hard in the airport, making sure he gets a flight okay.

After he’s gone Viggo and Orlando sit in the parking lot of the airport in silence. Orlando doesn’t want to go home, or go back to New Zealand, just yet. But he knows he’s not going to be the fishing partner Viggo wants, or be quiet enough in the evening when Viggo wants to sit and read in peace.

He starts fidgeting with the hem of his shorts, tongue growing heavier the longer Viggo sits with his hands limply holding the steering wheel, and decides to let Viggo speak first.

“We don’t have to stay at the cabin for the rest of the weekend if you’d rather go home.”

Orlando’s chest constricts. “I want to go back to the cabin.”

Viggo smiles, mouth creasing at the corners so Orlando knows it’s genuine. He nods once and then puts the Jeep in gear and heads back without another word.

He had been saving it for the three of them, but figures Viggo and Orli could use a pick-me-up. When they get back to the cabin Viggo undresses immediately and makes his way to the bathroom. In only a moment Orlando, from the living room, can hear the water running. It’ll be perfect, he’ll convince Viggo to take a bath with him and they’ll smoke and relax and Orlando will hope Beanie doesn’t leave too deep of a gap between them.

Fetching a joint and lighter from his backpack, Orli makes for the bathroom with intent.

“Hey, Vig,” Orli swings around the doorframe and hangs off of it with a smile he knows Viggo can’t refuse.

“Orli,” He acknowledges, throwing his towel over the rack.

“I’ve got a treat,” Wagging the blunt in the air looks silly, and makes Viggo chuckle.

“We won’t fit.” Like he already knows what Orli’s going to suggest.

The younger man pouts. “We can squeeze, we’ll fit.” He insists and walks over to switch the rickety shower head off so the bathtub sputters on instead. He plugs the stopper shut and keeps checking the temperature until it’s at the desired heat.

He hears Viggo sigh in defeat, and happily starts to pour soap into the steady stream. He undresses for Viggo, knowing he’s watching. The steam building up makes him feel lethargic with heavy lungs.

When he turns to the other man it’s with a tight knot in his stomach. Darkening eyes are on him, and they’re heavy with something Orli can’t identify. Viggo doesn’t say much but you can always read it on his face. He motions for Orli to come closer, as if they aren’t standing a mere foot away in the small bathroom. Without hesitation though he is stepping onto the rug by the tub with Viggo, smiling as he leans up to kiss him. 

Not moving away, Viggo plucks the joint from Orlando’s fingers as well as the lighter.

Pulling back, he says, “Get in,” voice having gone low and quiet. He turns off the faucet and the silence is deafening. Orli sinks in slowly to let the water rise without much disturbance. It’s a little too much, for some spills over the top when Viggo joins him. They have to situate their legs and asses and torsos but they get comfortable enough to lean against opposite ends.

Viggo lights up the joint, taking a long drag that mildly surprises, but delights, Orlando. After another he passes it to Orli.

They smoke in silence for a while, and Viggo starts a slow massage up Orlando’s calf and thigh. It has Orli sighing wistfully, feeling his head grow heavy but chest lighter. Viggo pulls him closer for a kiss, and to pull on a couple curls to watch them bounce back into place.

When Viggo has the last of the joint, Orlando is flying pretty high. Can’t stop the way his eyes go out of focus staring at the bubbles for too long, lost in thought. It’s easier to not care now, not care how much he touches Viggo or smiles at Viggo or makes content little noises at the way Viggo kisses his knee and lets smoke trail down into the water from his mouth.

“Give me a kiss,” He murmurs and Orli is sitting up without hesitation, head spinning. He doesn’t process it fully when Viggo takes a hit, the roach nearly burning his fingertips, before holding his chin firmly and kissing him. Smoke gets pushed into his lungs and he sucks it down greedily. Instantly, Viggo’s tongue slides against his, behind his teeth, practically batting at his tonsils. It’s slow like how they feel and the most overwhelming feeling he’s had in a while. Everything feels so fucking good when you’re high, Orli thinks.

By the way Viggo laughs, though, he’s pretty sure he says it out loud.

Ignoring the way the lake water has made Viggo’s hair tangle, Orlando runs his fingers through it to grip and pull when the older man nips at his bottom lip. 

“Ah,” Orlando kind of breathes out in a laugh, eyes closing and head tipping back. Viggo’s kisses are so light he has to focus on his breathing to keep it together. Tingling little bites at his throat, harsh suction at the juncture between neck and shoulder, gentler kisses still on the moles that pepper his clavicle. 

Orlando’s arms droop to settle across Viggo’s shoulders, hands just barely functioning to rub at his nape tenderly.

“Mm,” Viggo’s mouth vibrates around the nipple he suddenly has in his mouth. Orlando gasps, whimpers. Without thinking he lets a breathy moan slip free, hands moving down rest on Viggo’s chest.

“Should we move this to the bedroom?” Viggo breathes into Orlando’s ear. He kisses the lobe, making it very hard for Orlando to function. After a rough tweak at his nipple, he nods jerkily. Viggo stands first, a little steadier on his feet, and helps Orli out without incident. They have to lean against the hallway wall for a moment to get their bearings, laughing into each other’s mouths with fingers pressing into any flesh they can reach.

Orlando finds the slight beard on Viggo’s chin absolutely fascinating. The rough but soft fur itching his palms and rubbing against his face.

“How do you want it?” Viggo asks when they've finally made it to the bed. He sits on his knees above Orli with his hard cock jutting out in a way that would be intimidating if Orli hadn’t had it down his throat and ass so many times.

“Fuck me,” His eyes fall shut a little at the thought, knowing they’ll both last for forever. Or at least it will feel like forever and that’s what really matters.

“Turn over onto your stomach for me,”

Orli rolls over and shoves a pillow below his hips for extra leverage. He sighs into the comforter that’s gotten mussed up already. His hole is probably already stretched from how relaxed he is and barely feels it when Viggo presses in a single finger. He must have gotten up and come back with lube and condoms at some point, but Orli hadn’t felt the bed dip.

He moans, breathes harshly. “More,”

He feels another finger, and then within seconds another. Orli melts further into the bed, feels like he could drip completely through it if he tried hard enough. It’s so good, his cock is weeping into the pillow. He moves his hips minutely to get some friction and warbles out a noise he can’t process. It’s a feeling that rolls over you and leaves you panting.

Viggo says something, but he has to concentrate hard to be able to really hear him.

“Are you ready for me, baby?”

Orlando cries out with a tired whine when Viggo sinks into him. Sinks into him all the way and all together and without pause. He’s so full so quickly his stomach pinches up, legs stretching apart and he moans louder. God, it’s so good. He feels his eyes start to well up with tears and doesn’t understand why.

“Harder,” He chokes out and hopes Viggo won’t notice. He always notices, though, and is instead staying completely still. He doesn’t move his hips, but starts trailing kisses down his spine. Just as soft as before, but lingering. He goes down and then back up again, lips settling by Orlando’s ear, before he starts to move.

Orli lets out a shaky breath. Gripping at the sheets, he meets Viggo’s slow drag with an insistent jolt of his hips.

“Patience,” Viggo’s voice is on gravel. Unsteady, rocky.

It makes Orlando have the exact opposite of patience. But he listens, because his bones are heavy and brain still mostly in the clouds. Instead he waits out Viggo’s pace. It has gone on for a few minutes or a few hours, he can’t be sure, but finally Viggo rushes in hard and deep.

Orli’s back arches, aching low and without warning. It gets a different kind of moan out of him. Of course, Viggo notices this, too.

“What’s wrong?” He seems clearer now.

“My back,” Orlando’s eyes squeeze shut as Viggo falls from him. He flexes his hole around nothing, frowning.

“Flip over.”

And really, this is how Orli prefers to be fucked. Looking into Viggo’s eyes. Or Sean’s eyes. Or anybody’s…

He relaxes into the bed and wraps his legs around Viggo’s hips as Viggo settles between his legs.

As soon as his dick is back inside Orlando, he sighs happily, mewling at the way he inches in this time. He goes in, back out, in a little deeper, out all the way again.

Orlando presses one hand to Viggo’s muscled stomach as it ripples with tension, and another in the chest hair that’s glistening with sweat. He’s so fucking hot, Orli thinks.

Or says, because Viggo sweeps back in to the hilt, absolutely balls deep, and groans loudly.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Viggo kisses him, and it’s wet and sticky, and it’s what finally pushes Orli over the edge. He comes in thick ropes that pulse lazily from his cock. He arches off the bed but Viggo’s hands support him and remain even when he’s slumping back down.

Viggo pulls out, making Orli whine, and pulls off the condom to throw on the floor. Pre-come drips down and off of his cockhead, and he uses the wetness to glide his hand up and down, up and down. Orli grabs at his thighs and pulls him closer. He pulls him until Viggo’s thighs cradle his torso, balls resting on his chest in a way that would make him laugh if he wasn’t so focused on the tip of Viggo’s dick rubbing against his lips.

He suckles the head for a moment then licks around it to flick at the slit. The smoke coating his mouth and making it dry covers up the taste and he feels a little regret at that. He fucking loves Viggo’s cock.

Viggo moans loudly, hips stutter and hand stilling before come shoots across Orli’s cheek. He must’ve said that outloud, too.

He grins, licking at the tip some more and loving the way Viggo rings his cock out at the feeling. He’s panting and sweaty, and Orlando wants to kiss him badly.

“Kiss me,” Because he’s too high to deny himself even this simple pleasure.

Viggo grants him this quickly, bearing his whole weight down. Orli laughs into their kiss, squeaking when Viggo bites him for it.

“Should we hop back in the bath?” The older man asks, cheeky grin matching Orlando’s.

XXXX

For reasons Orli doesn’t entirely understand, they don’t fuck again on the last day of their trip. He was kind of hoping for a nice bout of morning sex, but when he had woken up Viggo was already out and about. There was a note telling him he would be back with breakfast.

Orlando hopes he doesn’t mean fish.

It’s not fish, but instead some pancakes and eggs and hashbrowns from a diner in town. After breakfast, and a small kiss, Viggo says he’s going down to sit by the lake if Orli wants to join.

Of course he does. He puts on a tank top because it’s still absurdly hot out and that polo gave him a weird tan line he’s desperate to get rid of.

They set up chairs and Orli is expecting fishing but that’s not what Viggo does. He just sits, looking at the skyline. He’s got on sunglasses but Orli’s pretty sure that’s where he’s looking. He wants to ask, but feels how deep Viggo is in his own right now. Can see it.

So he flips open his phone and shoots a text to Beanie, asking about his daughter. Then another to Liv that’s just a picture of the lake. He knows she’ll be jealous. Then when he’s pretty sure Viggo won’t notice he snaps a picture of the man’s profile. His hat creates a shadow over his face and the way his legs sprawl out in front of him makes him a bit like a cowboy.

“You look very American right now,” He can’t help himself but to break the quiet.

Viggo makes a noise. “Is that so?”

“True Western and all that,” He wiggles his fingers.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Vig smirks.

Orli just kicks his knee lightly, because it kind’ve was, kid’ve wasn’t. He just looks good, is all. Soon he gets sick of sitting and instead lays down a little ways in front of Viggo’s chair, closer to the banks where he hears a frog croak.

With his hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankle, he removes his sunglasses and basks in the sun. After a while he hears paper shuffling, and Orli tips his head to look up at Viggo.

“Don’t move,” Viggo insists quietly. He’s got that focused sound to him, and Orli knows he’s being drawn. It’s not the first time Viggo’s done it, just usually they’re rough sketches that he ends up pinning to the dressing room mirror.

He lays still for as long as he can, which only ends up being about two minutes tops, but Viggo just sighs, and continues on with his work. The pencil scratches at the paper and before he knows it the sound has him drifting off.

He’s woken up by a cool hand on his bare stomach. “Orli,” The voice murmurs. 

Orlando opens his eyes, glad for Viggo shielding his eyes from the sun. “It’s time for lunch,” He says simply, standing and walking away. He grabs his chair and leaves the other for Orli.

The diner is small and very typically American.

“Can I see the pictures you drew of me?”

Viggo dips a fry in ketchup, thinking clearly very hard. “Maybe,”

Orlando would care more if he didn’t expect this answer. Instead he smiles. Viggo will show him when he’s ready.

XXXX

He is having a Viggo moment. The moon hangs big and bright against the clear, dark night sky. It reflects onto the flowing river, though the current isn’t strong enough to completely disturb the image. 

“Let’s cross the river.” Viggo murmurs once the others have grown tired of craning their necks to look up. 

“Fuck off,” Orli laughs.

“Come on,” And he starts taking off his shoes. Orlando giggles a little. Viggo is insane.

So of course, he takes off his socks and shoes.

Wading in, Viggo directs him to step on the convenient stones that lead a path to the other side. They’re little rocks, not meant to be walked across, and by the time they’re a few feet in the water has risen to their waists. Orlando thanks whatever god exists that they were out of costume because he doesn’t think he could have refused the man even in Legolas’ tunic and tights.

He’s an idiot, and he’s following Viggo’s lead. Because Viggo’s an idiot. And he’s amazing.

Orli thinks in that moment he might be in love.

\----

To ignore whatever feelings keep surfacing when he’s with Viggo alone, he harasses Karl Urban into taking him out on the town.

He’s already a little tipsy by the time Karl comes round in a rented car and has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

“You keep it up we’re gonna crash, princess.”

Orlando’s tongue presses against the back of his teeth in a large grin. “What if we went back to my hotel room?”

Karl looks at him with an over-exaggerated sigh but he starts to smile when Orli leans over to kiss his mouth.

“Want your cock.”

Karl does a harsh U-turn.

When they get up to Orli’s room with minimal stumbling and grappling, Karl presses Orli into the nearest wall.

He completely avoids the slighter man’s mouth, instead nipping and sucking down the column of his throat.

“Jesus,” Orli struggles for air. There’s an urgency to the scrape of Karl’s beard on his skin, the hands yanking up his shirt, that he hadn’t been expecting.

“Been thinking about the way you blush since I first saw you naked.” He nips at Orli’s ear lobe and huffs harshly at the way Orli reacts.

“Are you going to bed me or fuck me against the wall?” In contradiction to his words, Orli pulls Karl flush against him to keep him from escaping.

“What about against the window so everyone can see?”

Orlando giggles breathlessly and almost takes him seriously enough to consider it.

Instead Karl slows down, kisses him on the mouth fully and starts to remove his clothes. Orli realises he really might fuck him up against the wall, and feels his gut clench. 

“Condom and lube?”

“Somewhere on the bed.”

It makes Karl laugh and pull away just as slowly as his mouth had moved against his. After a few seconds of shoving blankets and pillows aside he finds a nearly empty bottle of lube and a spare packet with a single condom left.

Orli leans his head back against the wall and gropes his dick through his boxers. His jeans wrap around his ankles uncomfortably and he kicks them away as Karl makes his way back.

Karl looks down at him predatory. Darkened eyes and careful steps as if ready to leap for the kill. Orlando desperately hopes he does and soon or else he’s going to burst.

“Turn around, love.”

With a grin and careful flick of his curls he does; he braces himself at arms length and pushes his ass out for the taking.

Karl drags his nails down the blank skin of Orlando’s back and hooks them into his boxers to drag them down to his thighs. He shivers and makes a small noise of approval, but otherwise stays still despite his cock filling up between his legs.

After the click of the lube being opened and closed Karl holds Orli by the hip with one hand and goes for his ass with the other.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Karl mutters. Then buries two fingers as deep as he can into Orli’s hole.

Orli grunts, mouth falling open and eyes squeezing shut. It burns regardless of the sufficient lube but makes his cock stiffen full enough the head starts leaking pearly pre-come. His arms collapse at the elbow, leaving him to thrust his ass back to adjust to the position and further down on Karl’s hand. 

After what feels like too long Karl adds another finger. It barely fits and with a bruising grip on Orli’s hip he stretches him three wide.

On a harsh groan Orli claws at the wall. 

“Still good?” Karl’s mouth presses hotly to the back of his neck. 

He nods quickly and shuffles his feet further apart. Moans fall out to the beat of Karl’s fourth finger being forced into his now loose and drooling hole.

“Fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme-” Finally a hand falls to his weeping cock to squeeze tightly at the base.

“Okay, baby, stay right there, don’t move, not yet princess.” Orli can barely comprehend what Karl says through his accent and the fog of arousal but it doesn’t matter because in the next second he’s being filled. He imagines he can feel Karl’s dick in his gut, even presses his hand there to see if it might poke out. He whines as Karl pulls out an inch then slams back in.

Karl pushes the back of Orli’s head so his forehead rests on the wall, open mouth facing his erection. Working his mouth over he manages to muster up enough spit to drool it down over his hand and cock. He’s able to glide his hand a little smoother, squeezing the tip before every downstroke. 

The pleasure starts building up his spine and he squeezes hard around Karl when the older man presses his nails into the lines of each rib, pulling down roughly to grip harder at his hips. The fresh marks burn and sting and Orli’s ringing his cock through an orgasm that nearly brings him to his knees.

He tries not to shout, barely manages to groan quietly, when the last bit of come coats the wall in front of him.

“Shit, you’re so good for me, baby,” Karl pulls out and turns Orli around to drag him over to the bed. “Lay down, at the foot of the bed.”

Orli sits at the edge and lays back with a sigh. The marks on his back rub roughly against the sheets despite the high thread count. Karl smiles down at him sweetly, even gives him a gentle kiss, before hoisting his legs up for better grip right below his knees.

His cock lines back up with Orli’s hole and like this he feels everything’s a little bit hotter. He’s stretched and wet and every in stroke is harder than the next. Like this Orli really can see how Karl’s dick bulges out in his guts, making it so he rubs up against his prostate every time.

Pressing a hand to Orli’s stomach, he shifts onto the bed with one knee, then the other. He grunts unevenly, slapping the smooth flesh there so the tip of his dick stretches pink skin.

Orli’s moans get louder and his dick starts to fill up again. Karl stumbles forward completely, Orli taking the opportunity to wrap his legs around the man’s hips. The change puts him deeper, causes them to fall together and devour one another. Karl bites harshly at the skin on his neck that must be three shades darker now. His face is hot from all of the blood pumping his system into overdrive.

With an unsteady hand Orli takes hold of himself again. He’s so sensitive it hurts. The further Karl moves up the bed the more bent in half Orli gets; his knees fall to the sides of his head and Karl’s lips latch onto him.

“‘M so close,” Karl grunts, stuttering through three short thrusts in.

“Scratch me, bite me,” Orli nearly begs, because it will send him to release.

“Fuck,” Karl shouts, immediately pulling back and driving into Orli hard and fast. The grip on his thighs makes Orlando’s hand tighten and after another stroke he comes up his chest.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Karl falls forward again to cradle Orli’s face and lay their foreheads together. “Oh fuck, Orli,” He moans Orlando’s name so deeply, from his chest, he swears he could come again.

Instead, Karl comes, hips slapping crudely against Orli’s bony ass. Every spurt he thrusts back in with a grunt until finally he draws out a long moan and stays buried deep in Orlando.

Karl collapses as soon as he stops coming, letting out another long moan.

“I wish I could ravish you for hours, love.” He sucks behind Orlando’s ear only a bit gentler than he had moments ago.

“Mm,” Orli wraps all of his limbs around Karl and moves his hips to feel the softening dick in his ass. “Me fucking too.”

Karl’s beard scratches his throat and chest as he trails softer kisses down his body.

“Let me take a piss and I’ll be ready for round two.”

Orli unabashedly ogles his tight ass as he walks around the corner for the bathroom, wonders if he can get him to fuck him against the window this time.

He doesn’t but he does get himself a set of lovely hickeys. A couple sets. Honestly, it looks like Karl was trying to suck the come out of his throat.

He’s late in the morning, arriving after Viggo and both makeup artists. Finally, he takes off the scarf he wore to battle a fictional chill in the morning air.

“Orli!” Noreen gasps in a way he doesn’t think is faked. “Jesus Christ, really cut my work out for me today.” 

He sticks his tongue out mischievously, flipping his curls and swiveling around to look at himself in the mirror. His own mirror is not covered in old photos and news clippings and careful but lazy sketches like Viggo’s. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Viggo looking at him intently. Intensely. He’ll leave him be for now, because it’s funny to see him riled up and for some reason this always does it. 

Viggo is always so polite, and careful, and kind. Sometimes Orlando likes to test how thin he can spread it.

Noreen has to spend an extra twenty minutes just packing on enough foundation to cover the hickeys and Viggo has been done getting ready but still remains in his seat. He’s flipping carefully through a journal Orlando doesn’t know is for writing or drawing. Both, without a doubt.

“Okay, dear, I have to say I am a miracle worker if there ever was one.” Noreen steps back and Orlando gets to see properly the job she’s done. Like always his gaze is drawn to the bright blue of his eyes. It’s so startling that sometimes he thinks even when he merely forgets them he’s doing it purposefully. When he focuses again he checks out the clean and unblemished skin of his neck.

“Oh, babes, you rock, you really do.” He coos dramatically, this time able to flip a long, blond lock of Legolas’ hair.

“Little slut,” She laughs and dodges the swift smack Orli aims at her. She quickly retreats and leaves Orli and Viggo alone.

“What do you think, Vig?” Orlando asks innocently, tipping his head back to and fro a bit to show off his bare throat.

There’s silence for a long moment before the other man speaks. Quietly, “I think,” Thoughtful as always. “That you’re a little slut.”

Orli’s stomach flutters, pleased. He fights back a smile. “Is that so?”

One side of Viggo’s mouth tips up a little more than the other, but there’s no humour in his eyes. “Mhm.” It’s more of a rumble in his chest than a real answer.

Orlando, if not in costume, would definitely be begging to suck Viggo off right now. As it is he has to ignore that feeling and settle for smiling impishly and saying loftily on his way out of the trailer, “I’d love for you to give me another lesson sometime.”

They spend that night with Orli on his hands and knees with no way to release and Viggo’s unrelenting stamina.

XXXX

“Only six months left of shooting, you guys, let’s make it count!” Elijah announces to the table at large, setting down another tray of shots.

“Slow down, boy, we still have three premiers to get through.” Ian says sagely, sipping from a glass of wine he has been sharing with Orli for the last hour. It somehow keeps getting refilled.

“Just because you can’t keep up anymore, old man, doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” Billy downs his shot to an audience of loud disapproval and laughter. Nobody gets to call Ian an old man, not even Billy.

“I would remove yourself from this situation, Bill.” Viggo leans across the table, jostling Orli at his side. With another loud laugh, Dom pulls Billy onto the small dance floor by a jukebox. They move together comically, drunkenly, for a while before getting tired and seemingly arguing over what to play next.

Viggo and Orli are enough in the corner that nobody sees when his hand slips from the table to Viggo’s lap. They don’t see how his hand starts to move over the denim, then when Viggo’s poker face proves too strong, under it.

“Would you like to leave?” Still so fucking polite. Despite the marks on his skin still being visible enough that Viggo can trace the long lines across his ass cheeks. 

“No, I think I’ll suck you off under the table, actually.”

Viggo gives him an unimpressed laugh. “Okay, smartass, let’s go.”

He doesn’t even try to hide his erection when he stands, saying goodnight to everyone and without waiting for Orli makes a beeline for the door. 

They kiss long and hard in the elevator. Orlando almost hopes it will stall. It doesn’t and he’s glad for it when Viggo takes him just as long and hard over the edge of the desk by the window. 

Orlando startles into a blubbering moan when Viggo’s nails track lightly down his back, then harder down his ass and thighs. He’s never done it before and Orli hopes he never stops. It’s so hot, hotter still when Viggo licks the surface wounds carefully. Like he doesn’t have to lick his own wounds because Viggo does it for him.

When they wake up it’s together, because they established after that first accident that it would be on purpose from then on out.

After some time Orlando stops going home with anyone else. Neither of them bring it up.

XXXX

Viggo doesn’t ever explain anything to him, and yet he goes along with it. Every single time. It would be more infuriating if it was anyone but him. 

“Where are we going?” Because a full sixty seconds of silence in the forest at dusk was enough for him.

“Not sure, yet. I’ll know it when we get there.” 

“Okay,” It’s enough, especially when Viggo grabs hold of his hand as they stand under an opening in view of the stars. His lips brush over Orli’s knuckles softly. Without warning, he’s blinded by a flash.

“Jesus, Vig,” Orli pouts, pulling him close just to push him away when Viggo leans in for a kiss. “I probably look awful.”

“You look beautiful.” It melts into the ground with Orli’s heart. He’s glad for the dark cover of night as his skin deepens a shade pinker.

They walk on for a long time. Viggo takes the occasional picture, but mostly watches everything with an attentiveness Orlando is not unfamiliar to.

“What are you doing after this?”

“I was thinking maybe Chinese.”

“No,” Orli huffs out a laugh, grabbing hold of his hand again and bringing them to a halt. “I mean after filming.”

“Ah,” Viggo nods. Then, it is quiet again. “Wait for the premiers in New York with my son, or in Idaho on my ranch.”

“Ah,” Orli parrots. Because what kind of answer did he expect? 

_Whatever you are._

_You._

Silly.

“What about you?” Viggo pulls them into a slow walk again.

“Probably just go back to LA, maybe take a couple roles I’ve been reading over.”

Viggo makes an affirming sound. Orli can’t see him well anymore but assumes he’s got that pensive look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Orlando asks when they suddenly come to a stop. It’s fully dark out now and he can’t tell if they should be getting ready to high-tail it away from a bear or not.

“I’m not exactly sure where we are.”

“What?” Orlando falters. It is getting kind of chilly.

“I’m sure it’s just...that way.”

They stumble blindly through the dark for a while before Orli trips over one too many tree root and gets fed up.

“Use your fucking camera flash as a torch,” He swats at an imaginary spider he’s sure he keeps feeling crawling up his ankle.

“Orli, you’re a genius.” It’s nearly mumbled, but Orli feels how much Viggo means it in this moment.

After a little while he begins to shiver properly. Viggo is staying close enough now that when he feels it he wraps Orli in an unprompted but warm warm arm.

“Better?”

Orli nods, wrapping an arm around Viggo’s waist and clinging as much as he can without tangling their feet together. The last thing they need is to fall on their faces.

Two hours--maybe longer. Definitely longer. They’ve both lost all sense of time. Using the flash was a good idea, though unsuccessful. They don’t make it back until the sun is starting to come up and the world becomes more than the blacks and blues of a bruised night.

There’s a sense of rebirth when they enter back into the waking world. Well, most of it is still asleep. They take their time walking back to the inn as if they haven’t been lost for the majority of the night.

Ori is tired and sways slightly into Viggo, knocking their hips together.

They won’t fuck, Orlando knows, but he still follows Viggo into his room and into his bed.

XXXX

“That’s the third time in as many weeks.” Viggo says the next night.

“What?” Orlando pulls back from where he’s suckling at the base of the older man’s throat. They’re sat outside on Viggo’s balcony because he had the foresight when taking up temporary residence to steal a couple chairs from by the pool. A single chair can fit two grown men reasonably enough.

“You blew off the hobbits to stay in. With me.”

Orli shrugs. “Maybe I just like your dick better than theirs.”

Viggo smiles like he’s annoyed. “You can go out and have fun.” He says pointlessly. Because Orlando does what he wants regardless of what anyone else thinks or says and is slightly offended Viggo thinks otherwise.

“I _am_ having fun.” He tweaks one of Viggo’s nipples and frowns when the man grabs his hands to hold them hostage against his bare chest.

“Okay,” Like he doesn’t believe Orli.

After a long while of Viggo successfully avoiding Orli’s hands on his dick the younger man gives up. He flops moodily onto the second chair. His front is cold despite the hoodie and sweats he wears without Viggo there to warm him.

When he finally turns his head away from the setting sun, Viggo is giving him a look like he expects him to leave. Like he wants him to. Orlando doesn’t understand and wants to ask but has always been a coward when it comes to things that are important.

\----

Viggo shares his poems and sketches with Orlando but none of it until after the third or fourth time. They had always been friends from the start, but the vulnerability had been too much for either of them in the beginning. Maybe it still is because when Viggo pulls Orlando inside of his hotel room, calloused thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand, they are fragile.

“Would you like to see the pictures I drew of you in Tennessee?” He murmurs.

Orli has only the strength to nod. Twilight is beginning to break and the warm glow of the desk lamp casts Viggo’s sharp jaw in bizarre light.

His hair falls in his face as he moves aside papers and notebooks until he apparently finds the right one. Flipping it open, flipping through pages, then stopping. He hands it over with as much care as he would a fresh painting.

Instead Orlando sees it is a poem. In careful, loopy handwriting:

_He looks for him_

_Without touching,_

_Makes pinpricks_

_In his furtive nakedness._

_Like a hyena._

_Flooded plains may remind him_

_Of startled fish, sunken palaces_

_Lit by moons and moons._

_He does not know what he’s_

_Thinking, doesn’t know_

_What’s worse:_

_Believing he’s come straight_

_From heaven or nowhere_

_At all._

Orlando reads it two more times. Sits on the edge of the bed and reads it again. Carefully, trying to absorb each line. He is the other man Viggo has written about so fervently. Compares him abstractly to an angel. 

When he looks up Viggo sits in the wheely-chair but is completely still. His ankles are cross and hands are folded in his lap. His face is open but neutral and Orlando wishes desperately to be able to see beyond it.

“This is beautiful,” He wishes he had the words, better ones, to compete with what Viggo has done for him.

“It’s my truth.” Viggo shrugs.

Orlando’s eyebrows furrow but he smiles, standing up and right in front of the other man. He sets the notebook down and reaches out to pull Viggo with him onto the bed. It’s a slow descent because Viggo pulls them closely together and boxes Orli against his chest.

When Viggo’s mouth presses against Orli’s, it’s as still and as firm as the arms wrapped around the slighter man’s back. They slowly undress each other, lips pressing against bare throat and chest and stomach until Orlando is left in just his boxers in front of an entirely nude Viggo.

“Vig,” Orlando smiles. “Touch me?” He drops his boxers onto the floor and lets Viggo press him softly into the bed. 

It’s an odd angle and through breathy laughter they scoot to the top, drowning in plush pillows that smell distinctly like the two of them.

Orlando puts his hands behind his head with a satisfied sigh as Viggo kisses down his chest softly and finally takes Orli’s cock in hand. Only for a moment before caressing the soft hairs on his inner thigh. Through a soft sound, Orli pulls Viggo into a deeper kiss. They touch each other with careful intent.

The skin under Orlando’s hands begins to heat up. His cock fills up the more Viggo brings his hand around it, then moves off to trace patterns in smoother skin. The unblemished skin of his legs, the tattooed Sun on his hip. 

Everywhere. Orli feels him everywhere when Viggo’s mouth wraps around the tip of his dick. It’s just as slow but more intense than Orli has ever felt it. His eyes slip closed and quiet moans slip out. Breathy little things. He lets his hand drift to Viggo’s cock and despite the dryness gives it a long stroke.

Viggo grunts, pulling off to replace it with his hand again. Instead he mouths at Orli’s sack, moves lower until his tongue can prod at the pursed hole.

Orli’s eyes shut tighter and he lets out a high-pitched moan, nearly strangling himself with it.

“God,” Viggo breathes over him hotly, tongue dipping out against the puckered skin a few more times before laying back. For a long time they stay like this. Stroking each other, breathing steadily but heavy. It gets hotter the closer Viggo feels Orli get.

When Viggo pushes a finger against his ass it’s slick with spit and presses in without haste. It doesn’t burn in the way Orli expects. It burns deep in his gut, the need for more.

“Need more, get lube,” He manages to mutter it out before Viggo presses into the tip of dick hard enough to erupt a real moan from him.

“One moment,” Viggo is so quiet, conscious. Orli feels like he might drown.

Viggo fingers Orli for a long time. Longer than ever before but still with just as much lube. It’s excessive and now they laugh about it, but it feels so good Orli will not argue or complain. He doesn’t speed things up or beg. He lets Viggo’s caresses and kisses press into each part of his skin Viggo hasn’t caressed or kissed before. His orgasm builds slowly, gut clenching and cock throbbing, until he comes hotly all over Viggo’s hand.

“Fuck,” The air is punched right out of his gut and he’s left to tighten up and wheeze. His hole clenches and unclenches where Viggo still thrusts two fingers inside of him. “Fuck me.”

“Literally, or figuratively?” The cheek from this guy, Orli thinks.

He huffs a laugh, eyes drooping back shut. “Both?” There’s movement, Viggo’s hands releasing him completely, and the bed rising and dipping in quick succession. He opens them in time to see Viggo toss tissues to the ground and move to Orli’s side.

“Turn a bit?”

Orli smiles in a way he knows is dopey, but his dick is still hard and his back is finally losing some of the pressure from the day. He rolls onto his side, pushing his ass back until Viggo’s dick slides against his tailbone. He’s so fucking hard. God.

Once Viggo has slid in fully, the only places they touch are at the hips and wherever Viggo’s hand roams. 

When he realises it, Orlando groans. He’s not wearing a condom. The thought startles him only because Viggo is always so careful. He almost doesn’t want to say anything because it feels _so good._ The tip catches just right on the tight inner rings of his ass.

Viggo hits a spot deep in him, and he blearily looks behind himself to see Viggo. Before he can, the older man buries his face between Orli’s shoulder blades, kissing him repeatedly there. His hips start to pick up.

“Wait,” Orli forces himself to say, almost shouting with all the force it takes. Viggo immediately stills. His breath is hot against Orli’s cheek. 

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re not...we forgot a condom…”

“Orli,” Viggo moves away almost completely and begins to slide out. He sounds horrified, lust seemingly ebbing away. “I’m so sorry--”

“It’s alright,” The hand he grips Viggo’s hip with keeps him still. Then gets him to edge forward. “It’s alright. We haven’t been with anyone else in a while, we’re both clean.” He does get a good look of Viggo now, pressing back onto him and peering up.

Viggo looks absurdly frazzled. Crossed between arousal and fear.

“Are you sure?”

God. “Yeah,” He’s never been more sure of anything, probably. Because this feels too good and his dick hasn’t gotten any softer since Viggo stopped moving. But then he does again, and it’s a delicious friction they both can appreciate. “Yeah,” He says again because right there right there right there.

It feels like an incredibly long time of harsh breathing and a litany of moans before Viggo slows down again and pulls out.

“Ride me?” He barely even says it, barely breathes it, but Orli still hears. He responds by rolling over as gracefully as one can when drunk on Viggo Mortensen’s dick. He’s fat and just the right length and Orli almost gets distracted enough to lean down and slip him in his mouth. 

Both legs fall open wide, making it easier to sink back down all the way. It punches another gut-wrenching moan from him. He has to wrap his arms around Viggo’s neck in order to stay upright and Viggo grips at those bony hips.

They take it slow again, Orli rising up and down without a break in the rhythm. When Viggo’s grasp becomes tight enough to leave marks his spine tingles and toes curl and he has to stop completely or else he’ll come untouched. The idea alone, God, Orli is a goner.

“‘M so close, sweetheart.” Viggo nudges Orli’s chin with his nose, mouths at the skin under his jaw.

Unable to say no or argue when he’s this aroused, Viggo’s dick is so far in his gut he swears he’ll feel it for days, he moves. On shaky legs, he’s back in position. Thinking of awful things, closing his eyes and trying not to let the older man’s groans shake his bones too deeply, are the only things that keep his orgasm at bay as Viggo’s rips through him.

Orli moans. "You're still..." He huffs, rolling his hips a little. "hard." So is Orli.

Viggo looks embarrassed but Orli ignores it. "Hang on," 

He folds himself up, not moving off of Viggo’s cock, and spins himself around. He settles his knees on the bed, leaning forward on both hands between Viggo’s legs.

"Oh," He moans again, moving incrementally. Come pushes out and down the sides of Viggo’s dick. 

Viggo grabs at Orlando so quickly he slaps his waist red.

"Fuck," Orlando’s head falls foward, back arching in a way that makes it twinge. 

"Orli," Viggo pleads, canting up as much as he can. "Keep moving."

So he does. He leans on his arms heavily, lifting up and down as slow as his shaky thighs will allow. His cock bobs against his stomach and he refrains from touching himself. He wants to come like this.

He feels one of Viggo’s hands move from his hip down to his hole, a finger pressing where they are connected.

It won't be long now, Orli knows. Little noises escape on every down stroke and it becomes so much he has to sit up fully.

Viggo wraps himself around Orli, one hand on his throat the other going to his cock.

"No," Orli moans, grabbing the hand and holding it against his chest.

Viggo must know what he wants because he groans deep, chest vibrating against Orli’s back.

Orlando feels his gut tingle, cockhead so red it would be painful if he could focus on anything other than Viggo, Viggo, Viggo. 

They fall backwards. Orli cant move well this way, but Viggo takes over thrusting up as deeply as possible. It’s erratic and so fucking hot. Orli moans loudly now, head falling back against the headboard. 

Viggo’s mouth latches onto his throat for only a moment before he's just breathing there, huffing hotly against the damp skin.

"I'm gonna--" Orli’s interrupted by his own orgasm, mouth falling open wordlessly, hands gripping hard at Viggo. 

A moan tears out of Viggo and Orli feels his cock pulse inside of him.

By the time either of them can move, Viggo’s limp dick has slipped out of Orli and Orli’s come has cooled on his stomach and chest. His whole body tingles and ripples with tension.

Orlando rolls onto his side away from Viggo to stretch out, grumbling incomprehensibly. His back has properly started to ache. And come is leaking out of his ass.

There's a kiss on his shoulder, another on his neck, another next to his ear.

"Mm," Orli humms. "I need a shower."

Viggo wraps himself back around Orli, pulling the slighter man to his chest. "Want me to join you?"

"Of course," Orlando replies sleepily, eyelids already sagging. "But no funny business."

"I don't think my old body could take it."

Orlando frowns, leaning his head back to see Viggo enough. "You are not old."

He raises an eyebrow, smile small. He doesn’t respond, instead rolls out of bed and leaves Orli to the cold. When Orli does get up, the shower is warmed up. The steam in the bathroom is intoxicating. He breathes carefully and stretches out his back before following Viggo under the spray.

“Your back okay?” Viggo’s soaped up hand runs down the scar there.

Orli nods. “Did it to myself, I’m fine.” He kisses Viggo’s shoulder and lets the man scrub him down. Even when he presses a finger inside him, softly kisses ‘ _push it out for me_ ’ into Orli’s chest, they practice self control. Half-assed attempts by their tired bodies at a couple more boners but it doesn’t go further than that. They smile into each other’s mouths about it, sputtering hot shower water out.

They towel off quickly and while Viggo turns off the single remaining light Orli burrows deep into the covers on the clean side of the bed. Despite the pitch darkness of the room, Orli can feel when Viggo is close. Even before he feels him make room for himself next to Orli, then around Orli. They breathe each other in for a while, until sleep takes him under.

If Viggo is holding him a little tighter than normal, he doesn’t think about it.

\---

Orlando wakes up to the breeze and a cold bed. The clock on the bedside table reads 3:15. Noticing the balcony door open, he pulls on his boxers and a hoodie that's at least three times too big for him and is most definitely Viggo’s to find him sitting outside. 

For a sleepy moment, he just stares. Then as quietly as he can manage, "What are you doing? It's quarter after three in the morning." There’s a little bit of laughter in his voice, fond bewilderment.

Viggo doesn't even look at him. "I don't know if we should keep doing this." 

And that can’t be right. His heart begins to beat a little faster, but he merely shifts from one foot to the other and crosses his arms as he leans heavier on the door frame. He's quiet for a second. It feels like a very long second, as realisation starts to set in. “Did I do something?"

Viggo laughs a little and he finally looks at him. Very simply, "No, you didn't do anything wrong." 

Orlando pauses again before asking, "What is it, then?" 

Viggo runs his hands over his face, sitting forwards and resting his elbows on his knees. Before speaking he lets his hands fall. "Orlando, I'm old enough to be your father.” To Orlando, it’s obvious that he's clearly been thinking about it and he nearly laughs. This is a non-issue.

“Yeah, and?”

Viggo leans back and looks like he desperately needs a cigarette. He sighs roughly. "What do you mean “and”? I can't give you everything...everything you deserve. I have a kid. There are things I just can't do anymore." 

And Orlando is trying desperately to speak but he can't make the right words come out so he doesn't; he climbs into Viggo's lap. Viggo presses his lips into a line and turns away from Orlando's touch as he tries to tuck long hair behind the shell of Viggo’s ear. So Orlando, the persistent bastard that he is, grabs his face in both hands and smiles, maybe a little sad. "Do you think I’m _that_ naive? Do you think I don't know all these things- and haven't since the start?" 

Maybe Viggo relaxes a little, maybe he doesn't, but he does grab Orli's wrists and moves his hands from his face and presses them against his chest, looking up at him like he's trying to savor the moment before he looks away again. 

"I’m not good for you." 

Orlando just chuckles because he's Orlando and his chest is closing in on itself and he doesn't know how to handle it so he just laughs but his smile is starting to break so he says, “God, Vig, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he means it because Viggo is so kind and warm and steady and he keeps Orlando _grounded_ like he's never been. He’s still so sure he could take over the world but Viggo makes sure he enjoys the time he's in rather than living in the future and what could be.

Viggo lets go of his wrist and reaches up to brush his knuckles across Orlando’s face and he murmurs so quietly, “You've still got so much left to be.” 

He _knows_ Viggo is trying to break things off with him, but it doesn't settle in until this moment and he knows he's about to cry. His voice is choked when he speaks as he nuzzles into Viggo’s hand and, without meaning to, “I love you.” 

Maybe he was expecting it, maybe he wasn't, but Viggo’s response is quick, eyebrows turned in and smile sad. “It’ll pass.”

Frustration and anger begins to set in because what the _fuck_ does that even _mean?_ He wants to storm back to his room with a flurry of “fuck you!”s and maybe before Viggo he would have, but that same force that keeps him grounded keeps him in Viggo’s lap and keeps him fighting for what he wants even- if he is crying. “What the fuck gives you the right to decide what's good for me or what I deserve?” 

Viggo runs a hand over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose for a beat before he sighs, drops his hand to hold Orlando’s thigh and says, “Because I love you, too.”

Orlando feels like he's going fucking crazy. The first time they said “I love you” was supposed to be special--Orlando had thought about it more times than he could admit to even himself. It was supposed to be with Viggo holding his hand, dragging him through the rain to get a peak at the moon from the perfect place in the river, it was supposed to be with Viggo holding his hips and gasping it into his mouth, it was supposed to be beautiful. He loves him, and he’s breaking things off with him in the same breath.

He doesn't know what to say so he doesn't say anything, he just grabs Viggo by the face and kisses him hard, and Viggo is a little stiff against them, but he still holds him close.

Orlando, though, is insistent. He kisses him like he can’t breathe or live without it, until finally Viggo warms up to him. If this is going to be the last moment Viggo gives him, Orli will demand all of him. Because he _knows_ Viggo; there's nothing else he can do or say. He presses their foreheads together after a minute and it’s so reminiscent of that first night together but neither of them says a word. Orlando untangles himself from Viggo before he walks numbly back inside to grab his messenger bag from the armchair.

Sniffling pathetically, he gathers his things and shoves them in the bag without much care. Viggo watches him like this with two knuckles pressed against his lips and his elbow on the arm of the chair for a long moment before he looks back over the railing, the same way that Orlando found him.

Orlando's hopping into his shoes a little awkwardly before he looks over his shoulder to find that Viggo isn't even looking at him and he can feel his heart shattering like it wasn't the lightest it had ever been just a few hours ago. When he leaves, he closes the door behind him without a word and he holds onto the handle, a hand over his mouth, for a long moment before he goes back to his own room alone for the first time in weeks. The bed doesn't even smell like him anymore and it doesn't smell like Viggo. He doesn't bother taking off his shoes before he curls up in the middle of the bed, bag held against his chest.

XXXX

Two weeks pass before Orli gets properly sick of everyone asking if he’s alright; he refuses to believe it’s just that obvious. But the hobbits have been asking him out even more regularly than they had been those little fucking alcoholics. And notably, alone. Just the four (sometimes five if Sean A decided to make the trip) of them. He never went home with any of them despite their less-than-subtle flirting. Even John Rhys-Davies seemed to feel the vibe, cutting his mostly well-meaning ramblings short more times than not. Everyone was able to remain professional on set, despite the clear tension. 

But it’s the bags under his eyes and the careful way he’s always put together before coming on set. The way he can’t look at Viggo for longer than a few heated moments. It’s made even more difficult when their makeup trailer is no longer filled with laughter and blow jobs. It hurts less when he jokes with himself about the sex. It was the easiest part of losing Viggo. The hardest parts could fill up a whole page, front and back with single spacing. 

The art Viggo brings into the world from simple inspiration all around him. The way he will smile quietly at someone before bursting into full, heart shattering laughter. How he can stay silent and hear more than Orlando might in a crowded bar. Waking up to Viggo’s beard scratching his shoulder, or forehead, or chin.

By the end of the first month Orlando is no better off. It is agonizing having Viggo so close but so far. They have to keep up appearances in front of the others. To demand them to get involved would be unfair.

On more than one occasion, when Orli can’t sleep at night, he thinks of his poem. _His_ poem because Viggo had written it for him, after him. 

_He looks for him_

_Without touching,_

_Makes pinpricks_

_In his furtive nakedness._

_Like a hyena._

He thinks those lines over and over again until he falls asleep.

\----

There’s three more months of filming and then Orlando will be on the set for Pirates of the Caribbean. It’s a nerve-wracking opportunity and he talks with Elijah for long hours into the night about it. On this particular night, to be exact.

“It’s just like...It’s a risky thing to put stock into. And there’s great people attached obviously, I’ll just be so far--”

“Orli,” Lij cuts him off. Quieter, he continues, “What’s really bothering you?”

Orlando takes a moment to think in the silence. Something he’s been working on more lately.

He settles on, “What do you mean?” His eyes stay glued to the ceiling instead of looking to his right where Elijah will without a doubt be giving him a _look._

“You know what I mean, babes,” 

He sighs, scrubs the back of his head into the bed to muss up his hair, and sighs again. “I don’t want to talk about it.” If he does he runs the risk of crying.

Elijah rolls over so Orli can’t avoid looking at him head on.

“Maybe you should?” Lij raises up a shoulder in askance. 

Orli huffs, rolling his eyes. “Why? What’s the point?”

“Maybe I just want to know what happened.” He quips back, moving lazily so he’s halfway sprawled across Orli’s side. He rests his head atop his hand on Orli’s chest. They look at each other for a long moment of shared unimpressed glares.

“It’s...nothing.” Orli insists, looking back up to the ceiling. He counts the tiles.

When he’s counted thirteen, Elijah breaks the reticence. “I hate to break it to you, but it definitely is.” He purses his lips together in a ‘I-know-best’ kind of way that drives Orli mad.

“It’s really not.” Orli pauses. “We just agreed that with the end of shooting coming up so soon it was better to get used to not being around each other. We weren’t dating so like, there wasn’t a reason to…” He drops off abruptly, feeling tears rub talons at the back of his throat.

“That’s not what Billy said that Dom said.” Elijah states.

There’s a whole ten seconds of tense stillness and then Orli is pushing up and off the bed, affronted.

“What the hell does Dom have to say?”

“Don’t shout, Orli, I promise it’s not a big deal.”

“It's a big deal that Dom’s a little perv that creeps on other people’s personal conver--sation.” He hiccups, tears starting to form properly.

“Orli,” Elijah mutters, following up after him. He mutters his name some more before wrapping Orli up in his skinny arms. “It’s okay, I swear it.”

“I know, I’m being dramatic. Viggo is perfectly alright and I’m a stupid bloody mess over it.” He rubs a damp cheek on Elijah’s shoulder.

“I do think you’re being dramatic,” Orli tries to jerk back but Lij keeps him close. “Because there’s no way he can stay away from you.”

Orli doesn’t know how to explain it’s not about the sex. That maybe it rarely had been. So, he just nods and pulls away slowly this time.

“You’re a really good friend, Lij.”

“I know, Orli, trust me, I know.”

\----

“Dom, I swear to all the gods above tell me what you fucking _heard ._ ” This time the hobbits are on _his_ side. Elijah and Billy help keep Dom’s arms and legs under control, though they are too apologetic for Orlando’s liking.

“Sorry, mate.” Billy mumbles after the third slap from Orli to Dom’s belly.

“ _He_ should be apologizing to _me_!” Orli whines.

“Unhand me you heathens!” Dom yells, catching breath in between hysterical giggling. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know just let me _go_!”

After another firm, flat slap they all get off of the couch to give Dom space to breathe.

The desk attendant looks only mildly perturbed by the noise.

“Jesus, you’re a handful, Orli.” Dom makes to smack Orli back but the other man dodges him with swift practice.

“Spill.”

Dom sighs dramatically, remaining laying down on the couch. “Are you sure?”

“We all already know it apparently, _spill_.”

“Okay, alright, fine, all I heard was Viggo breaking things off. I finished my cigarette and went inside, that's it.”

“You didn’t hear anything else?”

“No! I’m not a perv, actually, I do have some decency.” His accent thickens as he is on the brink of pouting.

“Well, then don’t tell anyone else.” He leaves one last mark right on Dom’s forehead before marching back up to his room.

XXXX

Two months left and today is Viggo’s final day on set.

There’s not much chance of having a moment together, even if either of them had wanted to. Viggo has arguably been one of the most important people on set, he will be greatly missed. There’s a haka, and long hugs, and more headbutts than Orli cares to count. They do not hug when saying good-bye. The bus is moved away and the scene is over and everyone is done for the night. They stand alone in a hallway as the studio begins to close around them.

“I meant every word.” 

A quiet declaration and the overhead lights begin to shut off.

“I never lied.”

They both know they need to get moving. Instead they sway a little closer. Viggo’s eyes search Orli’s, making sure he’s paying attention.

“I don’t regret anything.”

Finding his voice, Orli utters just above a whisper. “I just wasn’t good enough, right?”

Viggo swears under his breath. He moves closer still, their breath mingling. “You’re too good for me, Orli. Too young.”

“You can’t just decide for me what I deserve, Viggo.” He argues, his throat starting to tighten. He’s getting over-excited again, heart beating faster.

“I have to decide what’s best for _me,_ though,” Viggo brushes a curl off of Orli’s forehead, follows the movement with his eyes like he’s savoring the feeling on his skin. “When you decide in a few months that you would rather not be strapped down to an old man, I can’t get my heart broken.”

Orli shivers when their eyes meet again. “I won’t--” He begins weakly, eyelashes sticking together from the moisture that he refuses to let fall.

“You don’t know that.” And with the lightest brush of lips, Viggo retreats. Back into himself and back down the long twisted hallways of Hollywood.

And Orlando's heart shatters.

XXXX

_His bow breaks._ Orlando’s bow breaks. After 18 months of shooting every scene with it, it is no more.

“Well, it’s the end, isn’t it?” Fran says to him when he approaches her behind the cameras. He nods dumbly, feeling like a child that's lost his favourite toy. He refuses to think of him.

XXXX

“How’s the set?” Elijah is clearly preoccupied with something on the other end of the phone call, but Orli is homesick for a place that isn’t his home anymore.

“It’s great, yeah,” He tries to sound enthusiastic, cringes when it falls a little flat.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why does something always have to be wrong?” Orli runs a hand down his face tiredly.

“Because there always is something wrong with you, Orli, at least when you call me.”

He resents that statement. “I do not only call you when I’m upset.”

“Oh, please, honey, you treat me like your fuckin’ therapist.”

“Since when did you turn into such a bitch?”

“When your shit got fuckin’ old, Orli!” Elijah huffs and Orli’s eyes start to sting. “I didn’t mean that, I just...if you’re not going to do something about it you need to find something to take your mind off of it.”

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry for bothering you.” He hangs up before Eijah can respond. He knows he’s not being fair. He definitely knows that it’s been months since he’s seen Viggo. Almost seven, Orli thinks. He shouldn’t still care when someone brings them up.

He resolves to get extremely wasted with Keira and maybe even get in a quick fuck. He hasn’t been with anyone since Viggo.

They don’t fuck but they both manage some wet making out and heavy petting before Orli decides it doesn’t feel right and politely goes back to his room alone.

\----

He just barely makes it to the toilet in time to empty his stomach. He’s only slept four hours, according to the clock that reads eight in the morning, and he looks like it.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans loudly, expelling what he thinks has to be that last of it.

There’s another knock.

“Shit,” He whimpers. Dragging himself to the door, he keeps a paper towel over his mouth and squints against the harsh light that is suddenly spilling in.

Then the figure comes into view. Fuck.

 _Viggo_.

Orlando’s stomach turns so violently he has to quickly retreat back to the bathroom.

“Jesus, Orli,” Comes from not far behind Orli and he feels careful fingers pull the hair away from his face. It’s then that he starts to cry.

Not quietly, or discreetly. He spits harshly, sniffling and trying to keep in the pitiful sound of his sobbing.

“Fuck, Orlando,” Viggo’s in front of him now with a wet rag. He takes it in shaky hands, avoiding Viggo’s eye, and presses it to his overheated skin. After a few seconds with his eyes blissfully closed, he wipes his mouth and flushes the toilet. He takes careful breaths through his nose; he needs to get it the fuck together. 

“This isn’t--” _hiccup_ “Fair, you can’t just show up like this, see me like this.” His voice cracks. Taking the mouth wash from out of the cabinet he swishes around a mouthful straight from the bottle. He lets his head hang for a moment when he spits it out, eyes closed.

"Orli," Viggo starts.

Stumbling onto his feet, he makes sure to not brush up against Viggo as he walks back to the bedroom.

Viggo follows him out, but stays a safe distance.

"Orli," He repeats, then pauses. "I need to say this, but I won't do it until you're sober."

Orli groans, wiping tears and snot away. "I'm not drunk, I'm hungover." If Viggo hears him mumble _asshole_ he doesn't say anything.

"Maybe I should come back later?"

Orlando is so not okay right now. They just stare at each other for a long moment, Viggo looking maybe a bit desperate.

“It’s been seven months, Viggo.” He says carefully. His eyes burn and they’re starting to swell up with the rest of his face. His head feels particularly worse for wear.

“I know,” Viggo breathes it out like it’s weighed on him. Weighed him down.

“You can’t just--just come here, to my new job, and expect me to listen to anything you have to say. You made the choice--you didn’t want _me,_ not the other way around.” On unsteady legs, he sits himself down at the foot of his bed. He wipes away more tears, sniffles.

“The problem has never been that I don’t want you,” Viggo kneels down in front of Orli to catch his eyes. “I want you more than anything.”

Orli rolls his eyes, looks at the spot over Viggo’s shoulder. Because his chest is breaking wide open and this is worse than when Viggo had all but kicked him out that night, months ago. It will hurt worse the second time, Orli knows.

“This is the most unfair thing I’ve asked of anyone, but will you hear me out?”

And it is unfair because there’s no way in hell Orlando can say no to this man, especially with the way his eyes are starting to well up and his lower lip to wobble.

Orlando huffs, rolls his eyes again and rubs at his nose. “Obviously,” 

Viggo nearly falters with relief, face softening further. His eyes are bright and draw Orli in despite the desire to look away. They can’t be this close without somehow falling back into each other. Nearly literally.

“I screwed up,” Orli makes a noise that Viggo ignores. “I thought...I thought it was getting too serious, that neither of us could handle it. But, you’re right. It’s not fair of me to make that decision for you. I know we keep doing everything backwards...”

It takes everything in Orli to breath steadily and slow down his heart rate. The air around them has stilled, making the throbbing in his head all the more obtrusive. There’s no way after all of these months that Viggo would be doing this now.

“Why now?” He can’t help but ask it.

Viggo smiles wider, eyes drooping to close partly. “I couldn’t go another day without you.”

“That’s really fucking corny.” Orlando sniffles for the millionth time and scrubs away an errant tear. 

“It is really fucking corny.” Their laughter grows together, both ending up leaning into each other, foreheads touching.

And Orlando cries again. He’s so angry and hurt, but God, if he’s ever fucking loved someone.

“I love you, Orlando Bloom.” They close their eyes and their lips meet.

\----

“I can’t believe you drove for two days to get here.”

Viggo shrugs, barely stirring the sprawling form of Orlando all down his front. He rubs the naked skin of Orli’s hip, fingers tracing the line of his spine. “I like long drives.”

“ _Te amo_ ,” The words are foreign, slowly repeated, coming out of Orlando’s mouth. They make Viggo smile.

“ _Te quiero mucho_ ,”

**Author's Note:**

> the forest, and river scene are actual events that happened (though the latter was the only one with orlando bloom and i basically wrote it word for word how he said it so if u don't know what im talking about please go look it up lol it's insane like hello?? faggot) also the poem that vig wrote for orli is actually a poem by viggo mortensen (originally with the pronouns she/her tho)
> 
> also Huge shouts out to writer cimorene for creating the life changing work of fiction that is 'tennessee'. the Yearn of it all really fueled us to write 315 so ! go show them some love they deserve it <333
> 
> kudos, comments, etc are very much loved and appreciated!!


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